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The New World is fraught with danger and filled with monsters both thinking and feral. It is a land where humans struggle to survive and coexist with forces far greater than themselves. Hence why the massive monsters that call this place home have taken it upon themselves to guard and guide them. To teach and train them and see to it these frail and imperfect beings have all that they need to survive if not one day thrive in these inhospitable lands.
And, if they have their way, live with and love the hapless humans they've come to treasure and adore.
Woah wow check it out even more Monster Hugger! Sweetness and shenanigans aplenty this time around along with some world building.
Hopefully you enjoy!
Thumbnail comes courtesy of Jazzumi!
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
FWAM
Arms crossed about his chest, the Commander cracked a wry smile at the month's worth of supplies slammed down before him. Tossing a look back over his shoulders, stubble scraping against the cracked leather pauldrons draped across them, he motioned for the guards to welcome their gargantuan guests. With a salute they descended the wooden scaffolding overlooking the palisades and disappeared behind the wooden pikes erected around the whole of Astera.
“Trainer Nell. Trainer Taras.” With a courteous nod the Commander greeted them. “Thanks to your efforts Astera will easily be without want until the waxing of the new moon. You have my gratitude for safeguarding not only my people's present but their future.”
Hands cupped to his snout, Taras wiggled excitedly at the high praise. “Dohhh it'sss nothing! Really!”
The Commander insisted otherwise. “Staring down and helping lay low a bloodthirsty beast is not nothing. It's my understanding that these Hunters of mine are still standing here today because of your bravery.”
Chest puffed out, Nell clapped her hands together and brushed away what grubs and bugs had hitched a ride along with her haul of herbs. With a haughty chirp, and a blush, she reluctantly accepted the old man's accolades.
FWOOOOOOOOOM
Creaks, snaps, and groans permeated the air as Astera's great gates slowly swung open.
“You'll have to forgive the pomp and circumstance,” chuckled the Commander. “But you only get one first impression.” Back turned to the gathered Trainers and Hunters he gestured for them to follow him inside. “I figured that seeing you all sauntering, rather than sneaking, in would do wonders for your reputation. Put the people at ease as it were.”
Taras, Brook, Nell, and Jet reflexively shared a pained and nervous laugh.
“...Nothing to it but to do it,” the Huntress whispered. Dutifully following in the Commander's footsteps, Jet and Brook found themselves flanked by their very significant others. Upon breaching the boundaries of Astera's walls they stepped out from its shadows and into the golden rays of the rising sun.
“Now I'm sure the novelty has long since worn off, what with your many unannounced visits prior to this, but allow me to formally welcome you to Astera,” quipped the Commander. Groaning, Jet and Brook bid their elder to dial down the backhanded well wishes.
Through the gates the party emerged into a beaten down clearing. Towards the shoreline, where the clay gave way to sand, a massive and sprawling boardwalk sprung up. Stalls, clad in tattered awnings and shuttered tight, lined its splintering surface. Myriad docks jutted out into the ocean proper and many a fishing boat, tied to the posts by fraying ropes, lazily bobbed atop the waves. Even with the advance warning the Commander had relayed to the whole of Astera, with regards to their exotic guests, few locals had yet to turn out for them.
Forked tongue blepped out, Taras curiously regarded the sentries affording them a wide berth. With a smile, and a wave, he silently introduced himself as he lumbered past. To his unbridled delight the guards, timidly at that, waved back before shuffling past the parted gates to gather the heaping helping of supplies left outside.
Nell curiously and huskily growled as she ravenously drank in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. N-no! Noooooo. She would not, could not, let herself get distracted! She had a role to play, after all! Beak turned up, the Nargacuga huffed. Even as her gaze followed the length of Astera's inner walls, marveling at how they stretched into the shallows of the sea, she grumpily chirped. She was here for one reason and one reason only. To carry and conduct herself like a consummate professional, like a tried and true Trainer, so as to convince that curmudgeonly old bastard to agree to arm herself and Taras! And... Alma. She guessed. For Jet's sake she would... she... would... wait. Wait wait wait wait wait... were those?
The monster's head cocked to the side at the sight of those strange wooden walkways leading out into the waves. Eyes dilated, the Nargacuga gasped at the sight of a stray human leisurely hopping into and out of one of those floating nests Jet had told her so much about! It was so much smaller, and so much cuter, than the ones in the Old World's Epitaph! Oh by the Sapphire Star... to see such a thing out on the open water, to hear its comforting creaks as water lapped against it, was indescribable.
Nell HAD to know more. Chirping excitedly, the utterly entranced Flying Wyvern wandered off from the guided group and towards the docks.
Pinching at his scruffy chin, the Commander hummed as he led what remained of his wards into the still sleeping markets. “Come to think of it... Trainer Taras, Trainer Nell, what haven't you seen of this place? We wouldn't want to waste your time with the same old, same old, now would we?” Donning a knowing smile the old man tossed a look back over his shoulder. Said smile strained when, back and forth, his eyes darted between Taras and the open air where Nell ought to have been.
Nostrils flared, the Commander wordlessly plopped his hands atop Jet and Brook's heads and whirled them about their heels. Blankly blinking, the Hunters took an embarrassingly long time to piece together that a monster was no longer in their midst.
“...How?!” Brook yelped in disbelief.
Panicked and slurred syllables tumbled forth from Jet's mouth. Wheezing, he started shouting half-formed curses at the sight of a familiar black blur slinking towards the sea.
“Off to a strong start I see,” the Commander snorted while Jet raced after the Nargacuga.
“I'll sssay!” the Tobi-Kadachi excitedly agreed.
“Taras don't encourage him,” Brook tiredly sighed into her cupped together hands as the Commander couldn't help but wryly laugh.
Prey in sight, Nell silently skulked the docks. Kayaks. Canoes. Rafts. She knew not the names for the selection of seafaring vessels bobbing about the harbor but they captivated her all the same. To think that they came in so many shapes and sizes! Why... why some of them were barely bigger than the humans that were meant to house them!
“No no no no no no no no no. Nooooo. No! NELL!” Hurtling himself down the docks, Hammer scraping at his back, Jet struggled to match the Nargacuga's pace.
Toes splayed the Nargacuga unconsciously shifted her weight such that the boardwalk buckling beneath her feet neither creaked nor groaned. Shoulders tensed, and barbs jutting from her tail, the enormous Wyvern froze in place the instant the planks lining the docks began to noticeably sag beneath her massive gait. Without hesitation she noiselessly slipped into the shallows with barely a splash.
“NELL I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME.”
Thighs brushing against a raft the Nargacuga giddily chirped and bopped it aside with a swish of her tail. Nets and strange poles, threaded with what looked to be silk, rustled atop it. Awhhh! Silly humans! Even if it wasn't all that impressive a nest it was endearing all the same! That said... she wanted bigger. She wanted better! Eyes on the prize, manically focused on the unaware fisherwoman and her untended sailboat, Nell dropped to a crouch and shrouded herself among the rippling shadows cast upon the sea's surface.
“Why do you do the things that you dooooo,” Jet whined. Panting, he wildly waved his arms in a desperate attempt to catch the attention of suntanned woman slowly readying herself to set sail.
“Hail, Hunter!” the toned but wiry lass shouted back.
Eyes locked on the dock, her pointed ears cutting through the water like a pair of dorsal fins, ripples radiated out from Nell's beak when she noiselessly exhaled. Slicing through the water with frightening finesse the Nargacuga crept close to her quarry. Cupping her hands beneath the bow of the boat, clawed fingers dimpling against its hull, the Wyvern gingerly tugged it towards herself. Just a peek! Just a sneak! That's all she wanted!
CRKKK
To Nell's dismay the vessel snapped into place and refused to budge. Hrm.
“HEY. HI. HELLO,” Jet awkwardly introduced himself. Locking gazes with the fisherwoman, her pixie cut practically glowing in the light of the rising sun, he inconspicuously positioned himself so that her gaze faced away from the harbor.
“...Hello hello yourself,” she chuckled in bemused confusion. “Look. I know why you're here.”
Jet winced as his arms came to hang limply at his sides. “You... do?”
Furred cheeks puffed out, Nell shook her head side to side. Tugging at the boat, a bit more forcefully this time, the whole of the dock subtly shook. The vessel, firmly tethered to a wooden post and knotted ropes holding tight, refused to budge. Hrmph! Surely it wouldn't hurt to...
Hands on her hips, tattered tank top tapering off just above her waist, the fisherwoman flashed a toothy grin. “Comin' straight to the source for yer Whetfish fins, eh?” she playfully teased with a wag of her finger.
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” Eyes pressing against the sides of his sockets, Jet nervously coughed while he watched a pair of scaled hands rise from the water.
“Don't play coy!” Reaching forward the fisherwoman playfully nudged at Jet's chin. “You an' every other Hunter can't get enough of the things. Now as much as I'd like to play favorites...” she cooed. “I've gotta give everyone a fair shake at my catch. Yeah?”
Clasping at the side of the boat, Nell's fur frazzled and puffed out once more when she tried pulling herself up and onto it. As the vessel tilted towards her, saltwater trickling onto the deck, the Nargacuga relaxed her grip when its threats of capsizing became too obvious to ignore. HRFFF. There had to be a way to get on this thing! There just had to be! Hrmmmmmmmmmm. Maybe... maybe if she brought it closer to shore...
“Y-y-yeah.” Jet loudly stammered in an effort to distract from and drown out the Wyvern and her antics. Fidgeting, the humbled Hunter struggled to wrangle together the much needed word of warning for his newly met fisher friend. There simply was no way to delicately broach the topic of a well-meaning, albeit menacing, monster lurking just out of sight.
Arms tucked behind her head, the olive-skinned woman relished the handsome Hunter's fumbled attempts at, what she presumed to be, flirting. “What? Palico got your tongue?”
CRKKKKKKKKK
Yelping, the fisherwoman stumbled forward into Jet's embrace when the whole of the dock violently rattled beneath them. As the Hunter's arms protectively clasped around her they shared a furious blush.
“No,” Jet clarified with a sigh. “But the Nargacuga does...”
“...The hwat now?”
Paws buried deep into the sand, her palms bowing in the sides of the sailboat, a low and determined growl rose within Nell's throat. With a hurf she flexed her monstrously muscled biceps. “Why... won't... you...”
CRNNNNNCH
With a pronounced and deafening crack the gnarled and sun bleached post the sailboat was tied to snapped apart. Ripped up and out of the submerged sand banks it, along with most of the dock that surrounded it, collapsed into the ocean.
“ACK!”
As did Jet and his acquaintance. Sputtering and ptooing, the harried humans bumbled about the wreckage while they started treading water.
“Are you... are you alright, Miss?” asked the Hunter. Plumes of sand, sea shells, and frightened schools of Sushifish churned around Jet while he lazily kicked his legs back and forth. Arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder he knocked away the plethora of planks crowding them with his free hand.
Coughing, the shaken fisherwoman held close to Jet. “What... what was that?!”
SPLISHHHHHHHHHHHH
“That...” Eyes clenched shut, Jet sighed as Nell rose from the shallows and proudly hoisted up her haul. “That would be my Trainer.”
“Muh muh... muh muh muh... MONSTER!” screeched the fisherwoman.
The Nargacuga's expression, prideful and glee filled, faltered when she bothered to survey the wreckage she wrought. Annnd the familiar and not so familiar faces caught up in it.
“Nell,” Jet ahemed as he gestured to and introduced the massive monster.
A guilty chirp tumbled out from the Nargacuga's beak as her ears tucked close to her skull. With a nervous chuckle she lowered the sailboat back into the water.
Turning his attention to the human huddling behind him, Jet bid her speak. “Miss... Miss...?”
“Out of all the boats in the harbor she zeroes in on mine?” Maccha grimaced.
“Again, I'm so so so so soooooo sorry,” Jet said as he tiredly prostrated himself before the fisherwoman. “You'll have to forgive her... eagerness.”
Running a hand through her short hair, shaking free what splinters remained, Maccha bitterly sighed. Sitting on the edge of the boardwalk alongside the Hunter she turned towards the towering Trainers eagerly circling round her beached boat.“And this was yer idea, huh?” Maccha tersely trailed off.
Head flopping forward, Jet groaned. With a defeated sigh his gaze, too, drifted towards the meandering monsters.
“Look with your eyes not your hands!” Brook barked. The Huntress, chaperoning Nell and Taras both, patrolled about the sailboat's deck. Every time they tried to board she readily tutted and slapped them away.
Tossing a look back behind him, Jet shuddered at the sight of the sizable crowd gathering by the markets. Curious merchants, yet to open their stalls, dropped everything they were doing to safely ogle the monsters from afar. Their confused customers were, in turn, drawn towards them as were many a Felyne.
TATUNK
A pile of planks, and an accompanying sack of nails, flopped down besides the Hunter. Clapping his hands together, the Commander then thumbed towards the half-destroyed dock. “Your Trainer, your responsibility.”
“Yessir,” Jet dutifully replied. Rising to a stand, the Hunter hurked as he scooped up and awkwardly balanced everything needed to toss together some slapdash repairs.
THOOM
THOOOM
THOOM
“Misss Maccha! Misss Maccha!” Taras eagerly called out as he stomped up towards the boardwalk.
“Taras don't...” Jet groaned.
Broad tail swishing behind him, sparks crackling off his back, the Tobi-Kadachi's blood red eyes positively twinkled. “I-i-isss that really your nessst?”
Maccha warily exchanged glances with the Commander. The old man, Light Bowgun slung over his back, nodded. “...That's certainly one word for it. But, um, aye?” she proceeded to answer with marked uncertainly. “Why do ya ask?”
“Becaussse it'sss incredible!” gushed the Fanged Wyvern.
Taken aback, Maccha could do little more than fill the air with empty uhhhhhhhhs. Scratching at her cheek she tilted her head to the side. “Think so?”
“I know ssso!” Taras happily hissed. “T-t-to think! A traveling nessst!? I never knew sssuch a thing wasss posssible!”
Maccha raspberried and playfully swatted at him. “Pshhhh what? That ol' thing? It ain't nothin' special.”
“Y-y-yesss it is!” Taras resolutely declared.
Excusing himself, Jet rolled his eyes and trudged down the docks.
Maccha bashfully rubbed at the back of her head as a smirk creased her lips. “Well twist my arm why doncha...”
Bashfully kicking at the sand, Taras shyly tapped his clawed fingers together. “T-t-that sssaid! Ummmm M-m-misss Maccha? If it'sss-”
“Taras, did you ask her yet?” Nell impatiently shouted.
“Don't russsh me!” pouted the Tobi-Kadachi.
Brow cocked, Maccha stared down the wilting Wyvern.
Shrinking in on himself, Taras worriedly blepped. “Like I wasss sssaying... Misss Maccha? If it'sss alright would you... could you teach us?”
“Huh?” every human within earshot asked in unison.
“Pleassse! Pleassse pleassse pleassse!” Taras begged. Hands clasped together, he pleadingly shook them at the flustered fisherwoman before dropping to his knees for emphasis. “Your nessst! How doesss it float? How doesss it move? How-”
“How does it stop?” Nell loudly chimed in.
“I wasss getting to that!” Taras shouted back. Sinking into the sand, the rising tide lapping at his thighs, the Tobi-Kadachi resumed begging in earnest.
Stroking at her chin, Maccha uneasily regarded the static arcing between the tufts of fluff lining the Tobi-Kadachi's spine and tail. Eyes swiveling along the bottom of her sockets she watched as the Parexus fries schooling in the shallows, but the size of minnows, went limp and floated to the surface of the sea anytime they drew near Taras. As his excitable explosions of electricity subsided so too did the fishes' strange behavior. Huh. She could work with this. Pushing off from the boardwalk Maccha dropped down to the sand and surf below. “...Know what? How bout I do ya one better?” she said. Head tilted back the fisherwoman gazed up at the sweet talking snake-squirrel. “Hop onboard with me and I'll show ya!”
Wiggling in place, Taras excitedly gasped. “Really?!”
“Really! ...Assumin' we don't sink on the spot that is,” Maccha snorted. “C'mon. I'll show you and yer Huntress pally the ropes! Annnndd yer thieving friend over there provided she behaves herself.”
“Nell!” Taras not so quietly whispered as he raced back to the sailboat. “Nellllll! Ssshe sssaid yesss!”
Delighted growls reverberated within the Trainer's chests as Brook desperately bid them to behave themselves. Thumbing at her nose, and mindful to avoid the craterous pawprints now pocking the beach, Maccha leisurely followed after. Clambering up and onto her vessel, the fisherwoman worked alongside the Huntress to carefully coordinate Taras' boarding. Sprawled across the length of the vessel, spreading his weight from stern to bow, the Tobi-Kadachi blepped happily as his arms and legs came to dangle over the sides. Holding their breaths, and pinched between Taras' thighs and tremendous tail, Maccha and Brook then bid Nell to shove them off into the surf where, mercifully, they managed to remain afloat.
Disbelieving whispers swirled about the markets as the Astera locals watched on mystified. Eyes agog they held their breaths as the motley crew crashed through the white capped waves rolling into the harbor and spray surged past the massive cloud blue scaled monster overflowing the deck. While Maccha frantically clambered atop Taras to raise the sails a collective gasp rolled through the crowd when a surge of saltwater billowed overboard. The enraptured onlookers nervously murmured among themselves as Brook and Nell frantically started shoveling out the sea by the bucketful and handful.
They watched. They waited. And, to the crowd's triumphant relief, they cheered when Maccha's sailboat righted itself and casually cruised out to sea. Excited oohs and ahhs sounded out at the sight of Taras flicking and kicking his hands and feet so as to triumphantly paddle them ever onward. The Nargacuga eagerly swam, well technically waded, after her seafaring companions and into the crystal clear waters rife and replete with corals, sponges, and the very bounty of the sea.
Eyes half-lidded, and jaw agape, Jet found himself at a loss for words while rapturous applause carried across the harbor. Brows arched, a smorgasbord of sounds tumbled free from the Hunter's lips before he wisely decided it was best if he kept his comments to himself and resumed repairs.
TUNK
TONK
Sitting cross legged at the splintered edge of the dock, planks and nails piled up beside him, Jet's eyes couldn't help but wander now and again. He chuckled at the sight of Nell, quite obviously standing on her tiptoes, curiously circling round the sailboat after Maccha dropped anchor.
FWONK
CLONK
The image of Brook, skewering balled together clumps of bait on the spines that lined Taras' tail, made Jet cackle. Seeing the Tobi-Kadachi then lower his broad and tuft lined limb into the waters, proudly swaying and sashaying and putting on a show for his undersea audience, plastered an all too infectious smile on the Hunter's visage. Shaking his head, he started pounding planks into place on what supports remained with the help of his oversized Hammer.
TUNK
TONK
CLUNK
Dragging an arm across his sweat stained brow, Jet whewed. Kneeling on the docks, his armored greaves clanking noisily against the stout and solid planks, the wild haired Hunter tossed a look over his sopping wet shoulder. “Good as new!” he boasted to no one in particular. “At this rate I'll be done in...”
Looking out towards the ocean, and the gargantuan gap between the still standing posts, Jet visibly deflated. With a pitiful whine the Hunter's head flopped forward at the unenviable amount of work that remained. As a balmy gust washed over him Jet defeatedly grabbed hold of another plank and slid it forward atop the barnacle crusted support beams.
CLONK
TONK
Arm held out to his side, Jet blindly fumbled for some more nails. A padded palm, armored much like his own, brushed against the Hunter's hand and pawned him the sought after spikes.
“...Thank you, Sir,” mumbled Jet. At the Commander's prompting the Hunter shuffled to the side and afforded the old man room enough to sit beside him. In silence the two of them alternated between tossing planks forward and nailing them into place.
THWONK
THWAM
“How you holding up there, Jet?” asked the Commander.
Lips scrunched, Jet looked out to where the sea met the sky. Barely, just barely, he could make out Maccha and Brook loading up Taras with more chum. Dipping his tail into the water, enticingly swishing its baited barbs, the Tobi-Kadachi let loose a crackle of sparks when a hungry school of fish drew near. Stunned, and floating to the surface, the pink scaled Parexus soon found themselves swept up by Nell as she glided through the water, smooth as glass, towing a net behind her.
“Jet?”
“...I've been better,” the Hunter conceded as he nailed another plank into place. Switching off with the Commander he passed along the elderly Hunter some nails before shoving another piece of wood forward.
FWAM
SLAM
The Commander nudged yet another plank into place before them with a laugh. “You'll be out there making a fool of yourself soon enough! Don't you worry.”
Slouching forward, chin tucked against his chest, Jet heavily exhaled. “No it's... it's not that.”
“That so?” Reaching to his side the Commander tap tapped at Jet's wrist. In response the Hunter obediently relaxed his grip on his Hammer and the old man relieved him of it in short order. “C'mon now. What's eating ya?”
Elbow resting on his thighs, and a hand cupped against his cheek, Jet sighed. “Be honest with me, Sir. Has anyone ever taken as long as I have to earn their Master Rank?” he bluntly asked.
The Commander reluctantly side eyed Jet as the aspiring Hunter clutched his Rookie and Advanced Rank pendants within his grasp. “You're an outlier to be sure,” he raspily acknowledged.
“Like...” Jet limply shrugged. “I just... I really thought I'd be out of your hair by now.”
Grunting, the Commander affectionately ruffled the Hunter's noggin. “You don't see me complaining, do you?”
“Even so...” Jet mumbled as he half-heartedly swatted him away. “This? All of this?” Jet gestured at the escapades unfolding on the high seas. The monster manned boat could be seen violently lurching back and forth while Taras curiously, and repeatedly, lowered and raised the sails to Brook and Maccha's consternation. “I think, I hope anyway, that this is what will finally lead me there.”
“Training them so as to train yourself? You know I'm still not sold on this scheme of yours, right?” the Commander snorted.
“I'm well aware, Sir,” the Hunter conceded. Quietly, warily, Jet had approached the old curmudgeon and freely admitted to what he truly sought under the guise of this cultural exchange; the armament of his monstrous companions.
“That said... there's no point in pretending to clutch my pearls,” the Commander nonchalantly shrugged.
Swallowing hard, Jet shuddered as he recalled the Commander's frankly morbid observations following his presentation. Their discussions, admittedly, went far better than he ever dared dream! Yet while the Hunter had meant to emphasize anything but... his superior was all too enthusiastic to observe aloud that Astera's neighbors, if they ever truly wished it, could kill them to the last with little to no effort. Whether the monsters were armed or not made no difference and so, in the grand scheme of things, what was the harm in decking them out?
Reaching around his back the elderly Hunter cupped his Light Bowgun within his lap. “At the very least I can, and will, get behind arming Alma if only out of naked self interest. We'll speak more on the matter when the time is right.”
Jet nodded along in an unspoken show of thanks.
“The others though?” the Commander rhetorically asked aloud. “We'll see. Even though Taras isn't too much of an ask and Nell, from what I've gathered, is already accounted for... Alma is to be our priority. As you were so eager to argue she is our first, and only, real line of defense against ferals.” Tucking the stock of his Light Bowgun against his shoulder, the grizzled old timer stared down the iron sights of his weapon of choice and aimed towards Maccha's boat. He smirked at the glimpse it afforded him of the batcat, and snakesquirrel, ecstatically helping themselves to the teeming mass of fish flopping on deck. “That said, while I'm not opposed to you oh so graciously volunteering yourself up to train Alma, how exactly do you plan to do so?”
“I've...” Biting down on his lower lip, Jet bunched forward and wrapped his hands around his ankles. “Been practicing. I-I-I've been workshopping out a curriculum even with the best Trainers out there!”
“With Nell?” teased the Commander as he let his Light Bowgun come to rest in his lap.
“...With Nell,” Jet mumbled. The blush creasing his cheeks became indistinguishable from the sunburn radiating off of them.
Shaking his head side to side the ebony hued human chuckled. “From all but bowing down before the lords of these lands to practically babysitting them. What a long and winding road you've walked to get us here.”
“All things considered, Sir?” Jet opined. “I'd rather it short and straight.”
“Life ain't linear, Jet. So maybe the road zigged when you wanted it to zag. Doesn't mean it won't lead you where you want it to.”
“Well it sure is taking its sweet time getting there,” the Hunter mehed.
Humming, the Commander clicked his tongue while foam splashed up around them. The roar of the waves, crashing onto shore, crowded out the silence. “It's one thing to piss and moan about the pace of your journey but are you really that unhappy with where all its taken you?”
“...No,” Jet quietly replied. “But does it really have to be so roundabout?”
Arms crossed about his chest, the Commander hummed. “I'll be cute and answer your question with a question. Square this circle for me, Jet. Your Master Rank. What would you be willing to trade for it?”
“Sir?” Brow half-cocked, Jet struggled to follow along.
The Commander's steely gray eyes bore deep into the Hunter. “Say you had earned your Master Rank in a more timely manner. What would you be willing to forfeit for it? The time you spent building up a rapport with that Slayer woman?”
Recoiling back, Jet warily blinked. “What? N-no. Sir, what does that have to do with-”
“The time you spent forging your friendship with Taras?”
“No!” Eyes gone wide, Jet found himself surprised at how quickly and how forcefully he shot down the prospect.
“The time you spent nurturing your relationship with Nell?”
“NEVER!” Jet shouted from his chest without a second thought.
FWAP
“Ow...” Rubbing at the back of his head, Jet winced at the Commander's swift slap against his noggin.
“You stupid and stubborn thing,” snarked the wizened old man. “Like it or not life is a series of trade-offs, Jet. You've had countless opportunities to double down on your training and what did you do instead?” Plapping a heavy hand upon the Hunter's shoulder the Commander took to gently rocking him back and forth. “You fostered and surrounded yourself with people that love you and care about you. Why would you bemoan that? Those aren't the kind of choices you should ever be regretting.”
“Sorry, Sir,” Jet sheepishly mumbled.
“No more of this bellyaching, alright?” Lips curled up into a smile, beaming with pride, the Commander slung an arm around Jet's shoulder. “You'll get there when you get there. I know you will.”
“...Thank you, Sir,” Jet gratefully whispered.
WHAP
“OWWWW!” Jet smarted as he clutched at his cranium following another hearty slap.
“Now lying through your teeth to yours truly? Damn well better be searching your conscience after that.” Shoving the great Hammer back into Jet's grasp the Commander slid forth another hunk of wood.
With a sigh, the Hunter dutifully lined up the proffered plank before pounding it into place.
“Seriously though,” started the Commander. “You and Brook were sneaking those two in for how many moons? Did you really think the Felynes wouldn't clue me in? That I wouldn't notice our food stores depleting faster than they had any right to?”
“I meannnnnnnnnnnnn.” Hemming and hawing, Jet pointedly declined to answer as he gingerly tapped away at nails.
BWAP
Teeth clenched, Jet hissed as he tried to hold back the tears beading along his eyes. “Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow owwwwwwww.”
“Idiots, the lot of you.”
A few hours later...
“I didn't get you into too much trouble... did I?” Sopping wet and smelling of the sea, Nell bashfully rubbed at her forearm as she lumbered back towards the docks. Her black fur, matted to the rippling hills and valleys of her muscular limbs, accentuated the Nargacuga's every curve.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh only a lot,” Jet snarked. Stein cupped in hand, he sipped at a throat clenching serving of Frostpeak Fizz. The sun, perched high in the azure sky, bore down incessantly upon him and the fruits of his labors.
Pointed ears collapsing against her skull, the Nargacuga pitifully growled. Dropping to her knees, and bringing her arms to bear upon the freshly installed planks, Nell guiltily rubbed a cheek against her bitty beloved.
The Hunter, leisurely imbibing his drink topped off with Hoarfrost ice, paid his gargantuan girlfriend little mind.
WHUMPF
Chin resting upon his everything, Nell sadly chirped. “I'm sorryyyyy. It's just...” Swallowing hard, Jet's legs and thighs found themselves flattened beneath the bulge traveling along the length of the Flying Wyvern's throat.
“You know I'm just teasing,” Jet reassured her with a chuckle. “While you were out and about the Commander sat me down for a talk and... honestly? I really needed it. So believe me when I say I'm not mad. Honest!”
Piercing yellow eyes bouncing around her sockets, Nell opted to stuff down her excuses and instead pleadingly nuzzled into her Hunter. “Even sooooooo. I'm sorryyyyy. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorryyyy!”
Flopped back on the docks, his drink tumbling away from him, Jet smirked. Clasping at the sides of Nell's beak, brushing away the scales and fish entrails matting it, he lovingly nosed her back. “I know you are. Just ask next time, alright? People would rather you ask for permission than forgiveness is all,” the Hunter recited back to her. “More importantly though... you have fun out there?”
“Mmhmm!” Nell confirmed with a relieved sniffle. Growling excitedly, the reverberations in her neck felt more than heard, the Nargacuga viciously nuzzled into him. “To see Maccha's nest ride along the waves, its flaps catching against the wind, the fish swarming beneath its shadow was... was...”
“Psh. With the way you're talking it practically sounds like Maccha is your new best friend!” Jet teased.
The crimson bands of fur wrapped around Nell's eyes, and stretching up towards her ears, positively glowered. Cheeks puffed out, she let slip a husky chirp. “I wish...” she harrumphed.
Jet cackled as he kneaded and massaged his loomy lover's chin. Turning his head to the side, he spied Taras stomping into the markets alongside Maccha with handfuls of fish clasped close to his peach scaled chest. Relaxing his grip at the fisherwoman's signal hundreds of pounds of Parexus clapped to the ground. Merchants, waving fistfuls of Zenny, promptly swarmed the fisherwoman.
Eyes half-lidded, the Nargacuga impotently flicked her tail. The sight of Maccha circling round the Tobi-Kadachi, exaggeratedly and excitedly gesturing at him, made her beak purse. “How come she didn't let me ride on her nest...” Nell sulked.
“Why do you think?” Jet cheekily hummed.
Shoulders sagging, Nell flared her nostrils with a pronounced pout.
Drawing shallow breaths, the Nargacuga's head weighing heavily atop his torso, Jet let his hands wander. Fingers splayed, he combed through the wet fur lining her cheeks. “Nell. You tried to abscond with her livelihood.”
“I was just looking!” she whined.
“With your hands?”
“HRFFF.”
Rolling his eyes, Jet reached out to clasp at one of her black scaled fingers. “Well... there's always next time.”
Blushing profusely, the heat burning off her cheeks positively sweltering, Nell gingerly curled her digit and pinched her human's hand between it. “Next time?”
“Next time. You're a Cultural Ambassador now, remember? That means you can come and go as you please! If I had to wager...”
“BEAT IT YA REVOLTURES! HE'S MINE!” Maccha shouted. Fishing pole in hand she slapped at and drove off the competition shamelessly trying to sweet talk Taras out of her employ and into their own.
Brows arched, Jet stifled a chuckle. “...Maccha will miss you more than anyone else!”
“EXCUSE YOU?!” Brook's voice carried across the harbor as she marched up to Maccha. “I don't recall loaning him out to you!”
“Errrrrr,” Jet stuttered.
“L-l-ladiesss pleassse!” Taras pleaded.
As Brook and Maccha readied to trade put-downs, and punches, the towering Tobi-Kadachi desperately tried to separate them. It had been all of afternoon and they already had Astera's locals fighting over the monsters they had once thought to fear.
Jet shamelessly segued the conversation elsewhere all the same. “A-a-and let's not forget we've still got a lot of work ahead of us! Deliveries. Training. Teaching. The folks here are just as eager to learn about you as you are them after all! That, and, you only have the rest of Astera to explore!”
Positively beaming, Nell happily chirped as she leaned back and let her ample rear come to rest on her scaled and supple heels. Scooping up Jet, sliding him off the dock to bury him between her biceps and breasts with a crushing hug, the monster longingly locked gazes with him. “Mmhm?”
Jet bashfully squirmed as the Nargacuga hung on his every word. “We've still got to show you the markets, the Forge, the Botanical Research station...”
Toes twiddling in the surf, Nell cupped a hand against the back of Jet's head and stroked a thumb along his cheek. “Mmmhmmm?”
“The Canteen, the... the...” Rubbing his head along the side of her digit, shuddering at the faintest wrinkles in her flesh dragging along his skin, Jet proceeded to plant a kiss upon it. “Then there's the uhhh... the ummm....” Coughing fitfully, the Hunter suddenly found himself short of breath. “I mean... with how often you'll be visiting you're probably going to need a place to stay. Right?”
Nell tensed. She had teased, she had pleaded, she had hoped for this for so long but but but to think this was actually happening?!
“And what kind of a host would I be if I didn't even offer to house you...”
The wings lining Nell's forearms fanned out as her tail wildly lashed behind her. Maccha's nest? PSH. Screw that Noios! Taras could have it! Not when... not when... not when...
“Honestly my hands are tied!” Jet said as he sheepishly stumbled along. “What other choice do I have BUT to invite you into my home?”
Growling incoherently, Nell bunched her beak against her beloved. It's happening it's happening it's happening it's happening it's happening!!!
Hurking, the Hunter found himself swallowed up by the hill sized mounds jutting from her chest. Heh. It really was as the Commander said. At every opportunity that presented itself he always chose the same thing. And... and he was okay with that.
“GRWF.” Spoken word had long since failed the Nargacuga. The only things tumbling out from her maw now were affectionate growls, chirps, and purrs.
“...You do know it's going to be a tight fit, right?” Jet wheezed as he tried to ground his girlfriend's lofty expectations. “Cramped. Confined.”
“Intimate?” Nell rumbled with a hopeful lilt.
“T-t-that too...” Jet petered off with a scathing blush.
With the sea serenading them, the hiss of the retreating waves ringing in their ears, Nell flopped back into the surf. Heart pounding in her chest, Jet bouncing between her breasts to its beat, the Nargacuga triumphantly wiggled. “This our thing now, huh?” she asked.
“It can be,” cooed the Hunter. “Wasn't training our thing though?”
Nell shooshed him with an emphatic, and face smothering, smooch. “It can be both! But if I had to choose...”
Scritching at the Nargacuga's neck, Jet dreamily sighed as he settled deep into her sternum. Nuzzling into her wet fur he dared to test the waters. “...And Alma's thing?”
Head tossed back, the tide fizzling against the back of her head, Nell playfully growled. “Anything but this,” she commanded.
“Sooooooooooo training?” Jet weakly offered.
WHUMPF
“That's not what I said,” Nell deadpanned as she clapped Jet flat between her furred hills. “She's... allowed to train under you. Not at you.”
“Duly noted,” came Jet's muffled response. With Nell and the Commander's say-so he finally had the means, manpower, and blessing to follow through on Alma's inquiry. Now? Now he just had to make it happen.
As walls of furred flesh molded around him, the light of the sun retreating behind the Nargacuga's cleavage, the Hunter sighed contentedly. He'd follow up with Alma... eventually.
<<<QUEST ACCEPTED>>>
Wading through the undergrowth of the Ancient Forest, Jet brushed aside the fern fronds choking the beaten path. Eyes to the ground he clung stubbornly to the trail of craterous reptilian footprints left in a certain Anjanath's wake.
THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Terrified Blissbills and Revoltures, squawking incoherently, fled from the canopies jostling overhead. The Hunter's legs trembled as the very ground beneath him buckled and churned. ...Could it be? Staggering forward, struggling to keep his footing even as the tremors slowly subsided, Jet stepped out into an ivy choked glade. The Scoutflies aiding his search, their thoraxes lazily flickering in and out of focus, suddenly burst to life as the Hunter eeheed at a most welcome sight. “Slayer Alma!” Jet shouted with a wave and a smile.
Whirling about in place, the hulking Anjanath's frightening visage melted away at the sight of the ankle-high human approaching her. “Ser Jet!” Dropping to a knee, Alma warmly regarded the esteemed Hunter. “Such formality ill suits you! Is aught amiss?”
Rubbing at the back of his helmet, Jet strained his neck to gaze up at Alma. Even when kneeling the pink scaled dinosaur still scraped at the very sky. “No no no! Nothing bad! It's uh... well. Do you remember, some weeks back, when you asked me if I could train you?”
The Anjanath stoically nodded as she tucked a hand scarred with bite marks close to her chest. “Why yes! I do indeed recall that request,” Alma rumbled as she curiously eyed the Hunter's Scoutflies retreating into the lantern attached to his waist. In the back of her mind the Brute Wyvern had long since come to realize how foolish and farcical an ask it was. How could Ser Jet, even if he wished it, ever hope to accommodate her?
Yet... here she was hoping against hope. With bated breath Alma asked him: “Have you your answer?”
Before Jet could answer a raspy voice, with some glee, cut him off. “I mean if he doesn't I sure do.”
A surprised growl tumbled out from between Alma's snaggleteeth at the unfamiliar and well-aged human's approach. The thick mohawk of purple fur stretching down from her skull, and trailing down her back and spiny tail, rustled as she pulled her head back.
Jet cleared his throat as he brokered introductions. “Alma, this is... my Commander. The man I report to, I look up to, and ultimately consulted for how I might train you. If I could train you.”
“That answer is 'yes' by the by,” the Commander promptly elaborated.
“Sir!” Jet whined.
“Oh quit dragging this out,” sassed the old man. “You've kept her waiting how long now?”
“SIR!”
Amber eyes gone wide, surprised licks of flame sputtered out from between the Anjanath's lips. “Pardon?”
“Your vigilance has not gone unnoticed, Slayer,” said the Commander. “It is by your duty and sacrifice that this whelp of mine still stands. As does Astera.”
Alma's tattered wings, draped over her broad back like a cloak, drooped. She was ill-practiced at parsing praise, much less this news, and it showed. “I... I know not what to say.” Surely. Surely she had misheard them.
The Commander dismissively swatted. “No words are needed. Your continued presence, your great work, safeguards my people. And while I sincerely doubt you carry yourself into battle with humankind in mind… we benefit immeasurably from it all the same.” Scratching at his cheek, the elderly Hunter smirked. “Were I as noble a soul as Jet here, or yourself, I might be able to say that the whole of humanity wishes to reward you for your steadfast vigil. Say it and mean it, anyway. But I'm not in the mood to bluster you with bullshit and I can't imagine you're all that inclined to hear it.”
“...If not pleasantries then what are you here to exchange?” inquired the incredulous Anjanath.
“Armaments,” answered the old timer. “After all, what good would Jet's training be without weapons of your own?”
“Surely you jest,” Alma laughed as her gaze came to rest heavily upon Ser Jet.
The Hunter popped off his helmet. Tucking it beneath an arm, long black hair rolling down past his pauldrons, Jet nodded. “It's no joke. What was it you said to me, Alma? That you need only find the courage to ask? To try? Well, I... asked.”
“And I would not wander into the wilds to waste your time much less my own,” retorted the Commander. “If only out of a selfish desire for our own self-preservation we, the whole of Astera, would grant your request and equip you with what we can. We will not, cannot, simply cower behind our protector.”
Bassy, and uncertain, growls radiated out from the Anjanath that rattled the whole of the clearing. “Humankind regards me with such reverence? T-t-there must be some sort of misunderstanding! Perhaps... perhaps it is out of fear that they respect me so?”
The Commander cackled. “Tell that to Jet,” he snorted as he thumbed to the Hunter fumbling to slip back on his helmet. “I'll readily confess to being intimidated and awed by you in equal measure, Slayer. This Hunter here, however, was quite clearly compelled by something other than cowardice to advocate on your behalf.”
“Sirrrrrrrr.”
Hand clasped to her chest, a sincere and toothy smile spread wide across Alma's mug. To think that someone, something, like her could inspire such confidence and earnest if not impossible acts of charity? The mere thought filled her breast with an unfamiliar and welcome warmth. “My... my deepest thanks, Ser Jet.”
“Maaaaaaaaybe wait to say that until you see what we've whipped up for you,” the Hunter hehed. “Alright?”
“Forgive me, Ser Jet,” Alma happily hummed. “But I am afraid you will have to suffer my gratitude at length.”
“Now provided we're not interrupting anything important... would you care to join us?” continued the Commander. “Your Sword and Shield stand at the ready and we'd appreciate it if you gave us a gut check on how bad, or good, a job we did. We've never tried scaling up something like this to such sizes before and I'm sure our inexperience will show.”
Rising to her feet with a grunt, the creak of the Anjanath's hulking frame carried across the clearing. “There is no need to debase yourself before me, Ser Commander,” she playfully growled. “I know full well the quality of your kind's crafts. That you see fit to gift me anything at all is something I shall treasure always.”
“Two, technically!” Jet ahemed. “It's uhh... they come as a pair.”
Eyes twinkling, Alma dared to hope. Long forgotten dreams, buried deep in the back of her mind, flared back to life. Lumbering forward with slow and measured steps, pulped leaves and branches exploding up from between her toes with every footfall regardless, the Anjanath eagerly fell in line behind the humans that enthralled her attention so. “Shall we then, Ser Jet? Or should I say, Trainer Jet?”
“By the Sapphire Star not you tooooo,” Jet groaned.
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
And, if they have their way, live with and love the hapless humans they've come to treasure and adore.
Woah wow check it out even more Monster Hugger! Sweetness and shenanigans aplenty this time around along with some world building.
Hopefully you enjoy!
Thumbnail comes courtesy of Jazzumi!
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
FWAM
Arms crossed about his chest, the Commander cracked a wry smile at the month's worth of supplies slammed down before him. Tossing a look back over his shoulders, stubble scraping against the cracked leather pauldrons draped across them, he motioned for the guards to welcome their gargantuan guests. With a salute they descended the wooden scaffolding overlooking the palisades and disappeared behind the wooden pikes erected around the whole of Astera.
“Trainer Nell. Trainer Taras.” With a courteous nod the Commander greeted them. “Thanks to your efforts Astera will easily be without want until the waxing of the new moon. You have my gratitude for safeguarding not only my people's present but their future.”
Hands cupped to his snout, Taras wiggled excitedly at the high praise. “Dohhh it'sss nothing! Really!”
The Commander insisted otherwise. “Staring down and helping lay low a bloodthirsty beast is not nothing. It's my understanding that these Hunters of mine are still standing here today because of your bravery.”
Chest puffed out, Nell clapped her hands together and brushed away what grubs and bugs had hitched a ride along with her haul of herbs. With a haughty chirp, and a blush, she reluctantly accepted the old man's accolades.
FWOOOOOOOOOM
Creaks, snaps, and groans permeated the air as Astera's great gates slowly swung open.
“You'll have to forgive the pomp and circumstance,” chuckled the Commander. “But you only get one first impression.” Back turned to the gathered Trainers and Hunters he gestured for them to follow him inside. “I figured that seeing you all sauntering, rather than sneaking, in would do wonders for your reputation. Put the people at ease as it were.”
Taras, Brook, Nell, and Jet reflexively shared a pained and nervous laugh.
“...Nothing to it but to do it,” the Huntress whispered. Dutifully following in the Commander's footsteps, Jet and Brook found themselves flanked by their very significant others. Upon breaching the boundaries of Astera's walls they stepped out from its shadows and into the golden rays of the rising sun.
“Now I'm sure the novelty has long since worn off, what with your many unannounced visits prior to this, but allow me to formally welcome you to Astera,” quipped the Commander. Groaning, Jet and Brook bid their elder to dial down the backhanded well wishes.
Through the gates the party emerged into a beaten down clearing. Towards the shoreline, where the clay gave way to sand, a massive and sprawling boardwalk sprung up. Stalls, clad in tattered awnings and shuttered tight, lined its splintering surface. Myriad docks jutted out into the ocean proper and many a fishing boat, tied to the posts by fraying ropes, lazily bobbed atop the waves. Even with the advance warning the Commander had relayed to the whole of Astera, with regards to their exotic guests, few locals had yet to turn out for them.
Forked tongue blepped out, Taras curiously regarded the sentries affording them a wide berth. With a smile, and a wave, he silently introduced himself as he lumbered past. To his unbridled delight the guards, timidly at that, waved back before shuffling past the parted gates to gather the heaping helping of supplies left outside.
Nell curiously and huskily growled as she ravenously drank in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. N-no! Noooooo. She would not, could not, let herself get distracted! She had a role to play, after all! Beak turned up, the Nargacuga huffed. Even as her gaze followed the length of Astera's inner walls, marveling at how they stretched into the shallows of the sea, she grumpily chirped. She was here for one reason and one reason only. To carry and conduct herself like a consummate professional, like a tried and true Trainer, so as to convince that curmudgeonly old bastard to agree to arm herself and Taras! And... Alma. She guessed. For Jet's sake she would... she... would... wait. Wait wait wait wait wait... were those?
The monster's head cocked to the side at the sight of those strange wooden walkways leading out into the waves. Eyes dilated, the Nargacuga gasped at the sight of a stray human leisurely hopping into and out of one of those floating nests Jet had told her so much about! It was so much smaller, and so much cuter, than the ones in the Old World's Epitaph! Oh by the Sapphire Star... to see such a thing out on the open water, to hear its comforting creaks as water lapped against it, was indescribable.
Nell HAD to know more. Chirping excitedly, the utterly entranced Flying Wyvern wandered off from the guided group and towards the docks.
Pinching at his scruffy chin, the Commander hummed as he led what remained of his wards into the still sleeping markets. “Come to think of it... Trainer Taras, Trainer Nell, what haven't you seen of this place? We wouldn't want to waste your time with the same old, same old, now would we?” Donning a knowing smile the old man tossed a look back over his shoulder. Said smile strained when, back and forth, his eyes darted between Taras and the open air where Nell ought to have been.
Nostrils flared, the Commander wordlessly plopped his hands atop Jet and Brook's heads and whirled them about their heels. Blankly blinking, the Hunters took an embarrassingly long time to piece together that a monster was no longer in their midst.
“...How?!” Brook yelped in disbelief.
Panicked and slurred syllables tumbled forth from Jet's mouth. Wheezing, he started shouting half-formed curses at the sight of a familiar black blur slinking towards the sea.
“Off to a strong start I see,” the Commander snorted while Jet raced after the Nargacuga.
“I'll sssay!” the Tobi-Kadachi excitedly agreed.
“Taras don't encourage him,” Brook tiredly sighed into her cupped together hands as the Commander couldn't help but wryly laugh.
Prey in sight, Nell silently skulked the docks. Kayaks. Canoes. Rafts. She knew not the names for the selection of seafaring vessels bobbing about the harbor but they captivated her all the same. To think that they came in so many shapes and sizes! Why... why some of them were barely bigger than the humans that were meant to house them!
“No no no no no no no no no. Nooooo. No! NELL!” Hurtling himself down the docks, Hammer scraping at his back, Jet struggled to match the Nargacuga's pace.
Toes splayed the Nargacuga unconsciously shifted her weight such that the boardwalk buckling beneath her feet neither creaked nor groaned. Shoulders tensed, and barbs jutting from her tail, the enormous Wyvern froze in place the instant the planks lining the docks began to noticeably sag beneath her massive gait. Without hesitation she noiselessly slipped into the shallows with barely a splash.
“NELL I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME.”
Thighs brushing against a raft the Nargacuga giddily chirped and bopped it aside with a swish of her tail. Nets and strange poles, threaded with what looked to be silk, rustled atop it. Awhhh! Silly humans! Even if it wasn't all that impressive a nest it was endearing all the same! That said... she wanted bigger. She wanted better! Eyes on the prize, manically focused on the unaware fisherwoman and her untended sailboat, Nell dropped to a crouch and shrouded herself among the rippling shadows cast upon the sea's surface.
“Why do you do the things that you dooooo,” Jet whined. Panting, he wildly waved his arms in a desperate attempt to catch the attention of suntanned woman slowly readying herself to set sail.
“Hail, Hunter!” the toned but wiry lass shouted back.
Eyes locked on the dock, her pointed ears cutting through the water like a pair of dorsal fins, ripples radiated out from Nell's beak when she noiselessly exhaled. Slicing through the water with frightening finesse the Nargacuga crept close to her quarry. Cupping her hands beneath the bow of the boat, clawed fingers dimpling against its hull, the Wyvern gingerly tugged it towards herself. Just a peek! Just a sneak! That's all she wanted!
CRKKK
To Nell's dismay the vessel snapped into place and refused to budge. Hrm.
“HEY. HI. HELLO,” Jet awkwardly introduced himself. Locking gazes with the fisherwoman, her pixie cut practically glowing in the light of the rising sun, he inconspicuously positioned himself so that her gaze faced away from the harbor.
“...Hello hello yourself,” she chuckled in bemused confusion. “Look. I know why you're here.”
Jet winced as his arms came to hang limply at his sides. “You... do?”
Furred cheeks puffed out, Nell shook her head side to side. Tugging at the boat, a bit more forcefully this time, the whole of the dock subtly shook. The vessel, firmly tethered to a wooden post and knotted ropes holding tight, refused to budge. Hrmph! Surely it wouldn't hurt to...
Hands on her hips, tattered tank top tapering off just above her waist, the fisherwoman flashed a toothy grin. “Comin' straight to the source for yer Whetfish fins, eh?” she playfully teased with a wag of her finger.
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” Eyes pressing against the sides of his sockets, Jet nervously coughed while he watched a pair of scaled hands rise from the water.
“Don't play coy!” Reaching forward the fisherwoman playfully nudged at Jet's chin. “You an' every other Hunter can't get enough of the things. Now as much as I'd like to play favorites...” she cooed. “I've gotta give everyone a fair shake at my catch. Yeah?”
Clasping at the side of the boat, Nell's fur frazzled and puffed out once more when she tried pulling herself up and onto it. As the vessel tilted towards her, saltwater trickling onto the deck, the Nargacuga relaxed her grip when its threats of capsizing became too obvious to ignore. HRFFF. There had to be a way to get on this thing! There just had to be! Hrmmmmmmmmmm. Maybe... maybe if she brought it closer to shore...
“Y-y-yeah.” Jet loudly stammered in an effort to distract from and drown out the Wyvern and her antics. Fidgeting, the humbled Hunter struggled to wrangle together the much needed word of warning for his newly met fisher friend. There simply was no way to delicately broach the topic of a well-meaning, albeit menacing, monster lurking just out of sight.
Arms tucked behind her head, the olive-skinned woman relished the handsome Hunter's fumbled attempts at, what she presumed to be, flirting. “What? Palico got your tongue?”
CRKKKKKKKKK
Yelping, the fisherwoman stumbled forward into Jet's embrace when the whole of the dock violently rattled beneath them. As the Hunter's arms protectively clasped around her they shared a furious blush.
“No,” Jet clarified with a sigh. “But the Nargacuga does...”
“...The hwat now?”
Paws buried deep into the sand, her palms bowing in the sides of the sailboat, a low and determined growl rose within Nell's throat. With a hurf she flexed her monstrously muscled biceps. “Why... won't... you...”
CRNNNNNCH
With a pronounced and deafening crack the gnarled and sun bleached post the sailboat was tied to snapped apart. Ripped up and out of the submerged sand banks it, along with most of the dock that surrounded it, collapsed into the ocean.
“ACK!”
As did Jet and his acquaintance. Sputtering and ptooing, the harried humans bumbled about the wreckage while they started treading water.
“Are you... are you alright, Miss?” asked the Hunter. Plumes of sand, sea shells, and frightened schools of Sushifish churned around Jet while he lazily kicked his legs back and forth. Arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder he knocked away the plethora of planks crowding them with his free hand.
Coughing, the shaken fisherwoman held close to Jet. “What... what was that?!”
SPLISHHHHHHHHHHHH
“That...” Eyes clenched shut, Jet sighed as Nell rose from the shallows and proudly hoisted up her haul. “That would be my Trainer.”
“Muh muh... muh muh muh... MONSTER!” screeched the fisherwoman.
The Nargacuga's expression, prideful and glee filled, faltered when she bothered to survey the wreckage she wrought. Annnd the familiar and not so familiar faces caught up in it.
“Nell,” Jet ahemed as he gestured to and introduced the massive monster.
A guilty chirp tumbled out from the Nargacuga's beak as her ears tucked close to her skull. With a nervous chuckle she lowered the sailboat back into the water.
Turning his attention to the human huddling behind him, Jet bid her speak. “Miss... Miss...?”
“Out of all the boats in the harbor she zeroes in on mine?” Maccha grimaced.
“Again, I'm so so so so soooooo sorry,” Jet said as he tiredly prostrated himself before the fisherwoman. “You'll have to forgive her... eagerness.”
Running a hand through her short hair, shaking free what splinters remained, Maccha bitterly sighed. Sitting on the edge of the boardwalk alongside the Hunter she turned towards the towering Trainers eagerly circling round her beached boat.“And this was yer idea, huh?” Maccha tersely trailed off.
Head flopping forward, Jet groaned. With a defeated sigh his gaze, too, drifted towards the meandering monsters.
“Look with your eyes not your hands!” Brook barked. The Huntress, chaperoning Nell and Taras both, patrolled about the sailboat's deck. Every time they tried to board she readily tutted and slapped them away.
Tossing a look back behind him, Jet shuddered at the sight of the sizable crowd gathering by the markets. Curious merchants, yet to open their stalls, dropped everything they were doing to safely ogle the monsters from afar. Their confused customers were, in turn, drawn towards them as were many a Felyne.
TATUNK
A pile of planks, and an accompanying sack of nails, flopped down besides the Hunter. Clapping his hands together, the Commander then thumbed towards the half-destroyed dock. “Your Trainer, your responsibility.”
“Yessir,” Jet dutifully replied. Rising to a stand, the Hunter hurked as he scooped up and awkwardly balanced everything needed to toss together some slapdash repairs.
THOOM
THOOOM
THOOM
“Misss Maccha! Misss Maccha!” Taras eagerly called out as he stomped up towards the boardwalk.
“Taras don't...” Jet groaned.
Broad tail swishing behind him, sparks crackling off his back, the Tobi-Kadachi's blood red eyes positively twinkled. “I-i-isss that really your nessst?”
Maccha warily exchanged glances with the Commander. The old man, Light Bowgun slung over his back, nodded. “...That's certainly one word for it. But, um, aye?” she proceeded to answer with marked uncertainly. “Why do ya ask?”
“Becaussse it'sss incredible!” gushed the Fanged Wyvern.
Taken aback, Maccha could do little more than fill the air with empty uhhhhhhhhs. Scratching at her cheek she tilted her head to the side. “Think so?”
“I know ssso!” Taras happily hissed. “T-t-to think! A traveling nessst!? I never knew sssuch a thing wasss posssible!”
Maccha raspberried and playfully swatted at him. “Pshhhh what? That ol' thing? It ain't nothin' special.”
“Y-y-yesss it is!” Taras resolutely declared.
Excusing himself, Jet rolled his eyes and trudged down the docks.
Maccha bashfully rubbed at the back of her head as a smirk creased her lips. “Well twist my arm why doncha...”
Bashfully kicking at the sand, Taras shyly tapped his clawed fingers together. “T-t-that sssaid! Ummmm M-m-misss Maccha? If it'sss-”
“Taras, did you ask her yet?” Nell impatiently shouted.
“Don't russsh me!” pouted the Tobi-Kadachi.
Brow cocked, Maccha stared down the wilting Wyvern.
Shrinking in on himself, Taras worriedly blepped. “Like I wasss sssaying... Misss Maccha? If it'sss alright would you... could you teach us?”
“Huh?” every human within earshot asked in unison.
“Pleassse! Pleassse pleassse pleassse!” Taras begged. Hands clasped together, he pleadingly shook them at the flustered fisherwoman before dropping to his knees for emphasis. “Your nessst! How doesss it float? How doesss it move? How-”
“How does it stop?” Nell loudly chimed in.
“I wasss getting to that!” Taras shouted back. Sinking into the sand, the rising tide lapping at his thighs, the Tobi-Kadachi resumed begging in earnest.
Stroking at her chin, Maccha uneasily regarded the static arcing between the tufts of fluff lining the Tobi-Kadachi's spine and tail. Eyes swiveling along the bottom of her sockets she watched as the Parexus fries schooling in the shallows, but the size of minnows, went limp and floated to the surface of the sea anytime they drew near Taras. As his excitable explosions of electricity subsided so too did the fishes' strange behavior. Huh. She could work with this. Pushing off from the boardwalk Maccha dropped down to the sand and surf below. “...Know what? How bout I do ya one better?” she said. Head tilted back the fisherwoman gazed up at the sweet talking snake-squirrel. “Hop onboard with me and I'll show ya!”
Wiggling in place, Taras excitedly gasped. “Really?!”
“Really! ...Assumin' we don't sink on the spot that is,” Maccha snorted. “C'mon. I'll show you and yer Huntress pally the ropes! Annnndd yer thieving friend over there provided she behaves herself.”
“Nell!” Taras not so quietly whispered as he raced back to the sailboat. “Nellllll! Ssshe sssaid yesss!”
Delighted growls reverberated within the Trainer's chests as Brook desperately bid them to behave themselves. Thumbing at her nose, and mindful to avoid the craterous pawprints now pocking the beach, Maccha leisurely followed after. Clambering up and onto her vessel, the fisherwoman worked alongside the Huntress to carefully coordinate Taras' boarding. Sprawled across the length of the vessel, spreading his weight from stern to bow, the Tobi-Kadachi blepped happily as his arms and legs came to dangle over the sides. Holding their breaths, and pinched between Taras' thighs and tremendous tail, Maccha and Brook then bid Nell to shove them off into the surf where, mercifully, they managed to remain afloat.
Disbelieving whispers swirled about the markets as the Astera locals watched on mystified. Eyes agog they held their breaths as the motley crew crashed through the white capped waves rolling into the harbor and spray surged past the massive cloud blue scaled monster overflowing the deck. While Maccha frantically clambered atop Taras to raise the sails a collective gasp rolled through the crowd when a surge of saltwater billowed overboard. The enraptured onlookers nervously murmured among themselves as Brook and Nell frantically started shoveling out the sea by the bucketful and handful.
They watched. They waited. And, to the crowd's triumphant relief, they cheered when Maccha's sailboat righted itself and casually cruised out to sea. Excited oohs and ahhs sounded out at the sight of Taras flicking and kicking his hands and feet so as to triumphantly paddle them ever onward. The Nargacuga eagerly swam, well technically waded, after her seafaring companions and into the crystal clear waters rife and replete with corals, sponges, and the very bounty of the sea.
Eyes half-lidded, and jaw agape, Jet found himself at a loss for words while rapturous applause carried across the harbor. Brows arched, a smorgasbord of sounds tumbled free from the Hunter's lips before he wisely decided it was best if he kept his comments to himself and resumed repairs.
TUNK
TONK
Sitting cross legged at the splintered edge of the dock, planks and nails piled up beside him, Jet's eyes couldn't help but wander now and again. He chuckled at the sight of Nell, quite obviously standing on her tiptoes, curiously circling round the sailboat after Maccha dropped anchor.
FWONK
CLONK
The image of Brook, skewering balled together clumps of bait on the spines that lined Taras' tail, made Jet cackle. Seeing the Tobi-Kadachi then lower his broad and tuft lined limb into the waters, proudly swaying and sashaying and putting on a show for his undersea audience, plastered an all too infectious smile on the Hunter's visage. Shaking his head, he started pounding planks into place on what supports remained with the help of his oversized Hammer.
TUNK
TONK
CLUNK
Dragging an arm across his sweat stained brow, Jet whewed. Kneeling on the docks, his armored greaves clanking noisily against the stout and solid planks, the wild haired Hunter tossed a look over his sopping wet shoulder. “Good as new!” he boasted to no one in particular. “At this rate I'll be done in...”
Looking out towards the ocean, and the gargantuan gap between the still standing posts, Jet visibly deflated. With a pitiful whine the Hunter's head flopped forward at the unenviable amount of work that remained. As a balmy gust washed over him Jet defeatedly grabbed hold of another plank and slid it forward atop the barnacle crusted support beams.
CLONK
TONK
Arm held out to his side, Jet blindly fumbled for some more nails. A padded palm, armored much like his own, brushed against the Hunter's hand and pawned him the sought after spikes.
“...Thank you, Sir,” mumbled Jet. At the Commander's prompting the Hunter shuffled to the side and afforded the old man room enough to sit beside him. In silence the two of them alternated between tossing planks forward and nailing them into place.
THWONK
THWAM
“How you holding up there, Jet?” asked the Commander.
Lips scrunched, Jet looked out to where the sea met the sky. Barely, just barely, he could make out Maccha and Brook loading up Taras with more chum. Dipping his tail into the water, enticingly swishing its baited barbs, the Tobi-Kadachi let loose a crackle of sparks when a hungry school of fish drew near. Stunned, and floating to the surface, the pink scaled Parexus soon found themselves swept up by Nell as she glided through the water, smooth as glass, towing a net behind her.
“Jet?”
“...I've been better,” the Hunter conceded as he nailed another plank into place. Switching off with the Commander he passed along the elderly Hunter some nails before shoving another piece of wood forward.
FWAM
SLAM
The Commander nudged yet another plank into place before them with a laugh. “You'll be out there making a fool of yourself soon enough! Don't you worry.”
Slouching forward, chin tucked against his chest, Jet heavily exhaled. “No it's... it's not that.”
“That so?” Reaching to his side the Commander tap tapped at Jet's wrist. In response the Hunter obediently relaxed his grip on his Hammer and the old man relieved him of it in short order. “C'mon now. What's eating ya?”
Elbow resting on his thighs, and a hand cupped against his cheek, Jet sighed. “Be honest with me, Sir. Has anyone ever taken as long as I have to earn their Master Rank?” he bluntly asked.
The Commander reluctantly side eyed Jet as the aspiring Hunter clutched his Rookie and Advanced Rank pendants within his grasp. “You're an outlier to be sure,” he raspily acknowledged.
“Like...” Jet limply shrugged. “I just... I really thought I'd be out of your hair by now.”
Grunting, the Commander affectionately ruffled the Hunter's noggin. “You don't see me complaining, do you?”
“Even so...” Jet mumbled as he half-heartedly swatted him away. “This? All of this?” Jet gestured at the escapades unfolding on the high seas. The monster manned boat could be seen violently lurching back and forth while Taras curiously, and repeatedly, lowered and raised the sails to Brook and Maccha's consternation. “I think, I hope anyway, that this is what will finally lead me there.”
“Training them so as to train yourself? You know I'm still not sold on this scheme of yours, right?” the Commander snorted.
“I'm well aware, Sir,” the Hunter conceded. Quietly, warily, Jet had approached the old curmudgeon and freely admitted to what he truly sought under the guise of this cultural exchange; the armament of his monstrous companions.
“That said... there's no point in pretending to clutch my pearls,” the Commander nonchalantly shrugged.
Swallowing hard, Jet shuddered as he recalled the Commander's frankly morbid observations following his presentation. Their discussions, admittedly, went far better than he ever dared dream! Yet while the Hunter had meant to emphasize anything but... his superior was all too enthusiastic to observe aloud that Astera's neighbors, if they ever truly wished it, could kill them to the last with little to no effort. Whether the monsters were armed or not made no difference and so, in the grand scheme of things, what was the harm in decking them out?
Reaching around his back the elderly Hunter cupped his Light Bowgun within his lap. “At the very least I can, and will, get behind arming Alma if only out of naked self interest. We'll speak more on the matter when the time is right.”
Jet nodded along in an unspoken show of thanks.
“The others though?” the Commander rhetorically asked aloud. “We'll see. Even though Taras isn't too much of an ask and Nell, from what I've gathered, is already accounted for... Alma is to be our priority. As you were so eager to argue she is our first, and only, real line of defense against ferals.” Tucking the stock of his Light Bowgun against his shoulder, the grizzled old timer stared down the iron sights of his weapon of choice and aimed towards Maccha's boat. He smirked at the glimpse it afforded him of the batcat, and snakesquirrel, ecstatically helping themselves to the teeming mass of fish flopping on deck. “That said, while I'm not opposed to you oh so graciously volunteering yourself up to train Alma, how exactly do you plan to do so?”
“I've...” Biting down on his lower lip, Jet bunched forward and wrapped his hands around his ankles. “Been practicing. I-I-I've been workshopping out a curriculum even with the best Trainers out there!”
“With Nell?” teased the Commander as he let his Light Bowgun come to rest in his lap.
“...With Nell,” Jet mumbled. The blush creasing his cheeks became indistinguishable from the sunburn radiating off of them.
Shaking his head side to side the ebony hued human chuckled. “From all but bowing down before the lords of these lands to practically babysitting them. What a long and winding road you've walked to get us here.”
“All things considered, Sir?” Jet opined. “I'd rather it short and straight.”
“Life ain't linear, Jet. So maybe the road zigged when you wanted it to zag. Doesn't mean it won't lead you where you want it to.”
“Well it sure is taking its sweet time getting there,” the Hunter mehed.
Humming, the Commander clicked his tongue while foam splashed up around them. The roar of the waves, crashing onto shore, crowded out the silence. “It's one thing to piss and moan about the pace of your journey but are you really that unhappy with where all its taken you?”
“...No,” Jet quietly replied. “But does it really have to be so roundabout?”
Arms crossed about his chest, the Commander hummed. “I'll be cute and answer your question with a question. Square this circle for me, Jet. Your Master Rank. What would you be willing to trade for it?”
“Sir?” Brow half-cocked, Jet struggled to follow along.
The Commander's steely gray eyes bore deep into the Hunter. “Say you had earned your Master Rank in a more timely manner. What would you be willing to forfeit for it? The time you spent building up a rapport with that Slayer woman?”
Recoiling back, Jet warily blinked. “What? N-no. Sir, what does that have to do with-”
“The time you spent forging your friendship with Taras?”
“No!” Eyes gone wide, Jet found himself surprised at how quickly and how forcefully he shot down the prospect.
“The time you spent nurturing your relationship with Nell?”
“NEVER!” Jet shouted from his chest without a second thought.
FWAP
“Ow...” Rubbing at the back of his head, Jet winced at the Commander's swift slap against his noggin.
“You stupid and stubborn thing,” snarked the wizened old man. “Like it or not life is a series of trade-offs, Jet. You've had countless opportunities to double down on your training and what did you do instead?” Plapping a heavy hand upon the Hunter's shoulder the Commander took to gently rocking him back and forth. “You fostered and surrounded yourself with people that love you and care about you. Why would you bemoan that? Those aren't the kind of choices you should ever be regretting.”
“Sorry, Sir,” Jet sheepishly mumbled.
“No more of this bellyaching, alright?” Lips curled up into a smile, beaming with pride, the Commander slung an arm around Jet's shoulder. “You'll get there when you get there. I know you will.”
“...Thank you, Sir,” Jet gratefully whispered.
WHAP
“OWWWW!” Jet smarted as he clutched at his cranium following another hearty slap.
“Now lying through your teeth to yours truly? Damn well better be searching your conscience after that.” Shoving the great Hammer back into Jet's grasp the Commander slid forth another hunk of wood.
With a sigh, the Hunter dutifully lined up the proffered plank before pounding it into place.
“Seriously though,” started the Commander. “You and Brook were sneaking those two in for how many moons? Did you really think the Felynes wouldn't clue me in? That I wouldn't notice our food stores depleting faster than they had any right to?”
“I meannnnnnnnnnnnn.” Hemming and hawing, Jet pointedly declined to answer as he gingerly tapped away at nails.
BWAP
Teeth clenched, Jet hissed as he tried to hold back the tears beading along his eyes. “Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow owwwwwwww.”
“Idiots, the lot of you.”
A few hours later...
“I didn't get you into too much trouble... did I?” Sopping wet and smelling of the sea, Nell bashfully rubbed at her forearm as she lumbered back towards the docks. Her black fur, matted to the rippling hills and valleys of her muscular limbs, accentuated the Nargacuga's every curve.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh only a lot,” Jet snarked. Stein cupped in hand, he sipped at a throat clenching serving of Frostpeak Fizz. The sun, perched high in the azure sky, bore down incessantly upon him and the fruits of his labors.
Pointed ears collapsing against her skull, the Nargacuga pitifully growled. Dropping to her knees, and bringing her arms to bear upon the freshly installed planks, Nell guiltily rubbed a cheek against her bitty beloved.
The Hunter, leisurely imbibing his drink topped off with Hoarfrost ice, paid his gargantuan girlfriend little mind.
WHUMPF
Chin resting upon his everything, Nell sadly chirped. “I'm sorryyyyy. It's just...” Swallowing hard, Jet's legs and thighs found themselves flattened beneath the bulge traveling along the length of the Flying Wyvern's throat.
“You know I'm just teasing,” Jet reassured her with a chuckle. “While you were out and about the Commander sat me down for a talk and... honestly? I really needed it. So believe me when I say I'm not mad. Honest!”
Piercing yellow eyes bouncing around her sockets, Nell opted to stuff down her excuses and instead pleadingly nuzzled into her Hunter. “Even sooooooo. I'm sorryyyyy. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorryyyy!”
Flopped back on the docks, his drink tumbling away from him, Jet smirked. Clasping at the sides of Nell's beak, brushing away the scales and fish entrails matting it, he lovingly nosed her back. “I know you are. Just ask next time, alright? People would rather you ask for permission than forgiveness is all,” the Hunter recited back to her. “More importantly though... you have fun out there?”
“Mmhmm!” Nell confirmed with a relieved sniffle. Growling excitedly, the reverberations in her neck felt more than heard, the Nargacuga viciously nuzzled into him. “To see Maccha's nest ride along the waves, its flaps catching against the wind, the fish swarming beneath its shadow was... was...”
“Psh. With the way you're talking it practically sounds like Maccha is your new best friend!” Jet teased.
The crimson bands of fur wrapped around Nell's eyes, and stretching up towards her ears, positively glowered. Cheeks puffed out, she let slip a husky chirp. “I wish...” she harrumphed.
Jet cackled as he kneaded and massaged his loomy lover's chin. Turning his head to the side, he spied Taras stomping into the markets alongside Maccha with handfuls of fish clasped close to his peach scaled chest. Relaxing his grip at the fisherwoman's signal hundreds of pounds of Parexus clapped to the ground. Merchants, waving fistfuls of Zenny, promptly swarmed the fisherwoman.
Eyes half-lidded, the Nargacuga impotently flicked her tail. The sight of Maccha circling round the Tobi-Kadachi, exaggeratedly and excitedly gesturing at him, made her beak purse. “How come she didn't let me ride on her nest...” Nell sulked.
“Why do you think?” Jet cheekily hummed.
Shoulders sagging, Nell flared her nostrils with a pronounced pout.
Drawing shallow breaths, the Nargacuga's head weighing heavily atop his torso, Jet let his hands wander. Fingers splayed, he combed through the wet fur lining her cheeks. “Nell. You tried to abscond with her livelihood.”
“I was just looking!” she whined.
“With your hands?”
“HRFFF.”
Rolling his eyes, Jet reached out to clasp at one of her black scaled fingers. “Well... there's always next time.”
Blushing profusely, the heat burning off her cheeks positively sweltering, Nell gingerly curled her digit and pinched her human's hand between it. “Next time?”
“Next time. You're a Cultural Ambassador now, remember? That means you can come and go as you please! If I had to wager...”
“BEAT IT YA REVOLTURES! HE'S MINE!” Maccha shouted. Fishing pole in hand she slapped at and drove off the competition shamelessly trying to sweet talk Taras out of her employ and into their own.
Brows arched, Jet stifled a chuckle. “...Maccha will miss you more than anyone else!”
“EXCUSE YOU?!” Brook's voice carried across the harbor as she marched up to Maccha. “I don't recall loaning him out to you!”
“Errrrrr,” Jet stuttered.
“L-l-ladiesss pleassse!” Taras pleaded.
As Brook and Maccha readied to trade put-downs, and punches, the towering Tobi-Kadachi desperately tried to separate them. It had been all of afternoon and they already had Astera's locals fighting over the monsters they had once thought to fear.
Jet shamelessly segued the conversation elsewhere all the same. “A-a-and let's not forget we've still got a lot of work ahead of us! Deliveries. Training. Teaching. The folks here are just as eager to learn about you as you are them after all! That, and, you only have the rest of Astera to explore!”
Positively beaming, Nell happily chirped as she leaned back and let her ample rear come to rest on her scaled and supple heels. Scooping up Jet, sliding him off the dock to bury him between her biceps and breasts with a crushing hug, the monster longingly locked gazes with him. “Mmhm?”
Jet bashfully squirmed as the Nargacuga hung on his every word. “We've still got to show you the markets, the Forge, the Botanical Research station...”
Toes twiddling in the surf, Nell cupped a hand against the back of Jet's head and stroked a thumb along his cheek. “Mmmhmmm?”
“The Canteen, the... the...” Rubbing his head along the side of her digit, shuddering at the faintest wrinkles in her flesh dragging along his skin, Jet proceeded to plant a kiss upon it. “Then there's the uhhh... the ummm....” Coughing fitfully, the Hunter suddenly found himself short of breath. “I mean... with how often you'll be visiting you're probably going to need a place to stay. Right?”
Nell tensed. She had teased, she had pleaded, she had hoped for this for so long but but but to think this was actually happening?!
“And what kind of a host would I be if I didn't even offer to house you...”
The wings lining Nell's forearms fanned out as her tail wildly lashed behind her. Maccha's nest? PSH. Screw that Noios! Taras could have it! Not when... not when... not when...
“Honestly my hands are tied!” Jet said as he sheepishly stumbled along. “What other choice do I have BUT to invite you into my home?”
Growling incoherently, Nell bunched her beak against her beloved. It's happening it's happening it's happening it's happening it's happening!!!
Hurking, the Hunter found himself swallowed up by the hill sized mounds jutting from her chest. Heh. It really was as the Commander said. At every opportunity that presented itself he always chose the same thing. And... and he was okay with that.
“GRWF.” Spoken word had long since failed the Nargacuga. The only things tumbling out from her maw now were affectionate growls, chirps, and purrs.
“...You do know it's going to be a tight fit, right?” Jet wheezed as he tried to ground his girlfriend's lofty expectations. “Cramped. Confined.”
“Intimate?” Nell rumbled with a hopeful lilt.
“T-t-that too...” Jet petered off with a scathing blush.
With the sea serenading them, the hiss of the retreating waves ringing in their ears, Nell flopped back into the surf. Heart pounding in her chest, Jet bouncing between her breasts to its beat, the Nargacuga triumphantly wiggled. “This our thing now, huh?” she asked.
“It can be,” cooed the Hunter. “Wasn't training our thing though?”
Nell shooshed him with an emphatic, and face smothering, smooch. “It can be both! But if I had to choose...”
Scritching at the Nargacuga's neck, Jet dreamily sighed as he settled deep into her sternum. Nuzzling into her wet fur he dared to test the waters. “...And Alma's thing?”
Head tossed back, the tide fizzling against the back of her head, Nell playfully growled. “Anything but this,” she commanded.
“Sooooooooooo training?” Jet weakly offered.
WHUMPF
“That's not what I said,” Nell deadpanned as she clapped Jet flat between her furred hills. “She's... allowed to train under you. Not at you.”
“Duly noted,” came Jet's muffled response. With Nell and the Commander's say-so he finally had the means, manpower, and blessing to follow through on Alma's inquiry. Now? Now he just had to make it happen.
As walls of furred flesh molded around him, the light of the sun retreating behind the Nargacuga's cleavage, the Hunter sighed contentedly. He'd follow up with Alma... eventually.
<<<QUEST ACCEPTED>>>
Wading through the undergrowth of the Ancient Forest, Jet brushed aside the fern fronds choking the beaten path. Eyes to the ground he clung stubbornly to the trail of craterous reptilian footprints left in a certain Anjanath's wake.
THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Terrified Blissbills and Revoltures, squawking incoherently, fled from the canopies jostling overhead. The Hunter's legs trembled as the very ground beneath him buckled and churned. ...Could it be? Staggering forward, struggling to keep his footing even as the tremors slowly subsided, Jet stepped out into an ivy choked glade. The Scoutflies aiding his search, their thoraxes lazily flickering in and out of focus, suddenly burst to life as the Hunter eeheed at a most welcome sight. “Slayer Alma!” Jet shouted with a wave and a smile.
Whirling about in place, the hulking Anjanath's frightening visage melted away at the sight of the ankle-high human approaching her. “Ser Jet!” Dropping to a knee, Alma warmly regarded the esteemed Hunter. “Such formality ill suits you! Is aught amiss?”
Rubbing at the back of his helmet, Jet strained his neck to gaze up at Alma. Even when kneeling the pink scaled dinosaur still scraped at the very sky. “No no no! Nothing bad! It's uh... well. Do you remember, some weeks back, when you asked me if I could train you?”
The Anjanath stoically nodded as she tucked a hand scarred with bite marks close to her chest. “Why yes! I do indeed recall that request,” Alma rumbled as she curiously eyed the Hunter's Scoutflies retreating into the lantern attached to his waist. In the back of her mind the Brute Wyvern had long since come to realize how foolish and farcical an ask it was. How could Ser Jet, even if he wished it, ever hope to accommodate her?
Yet... here she was hoping against hope. With bated breath Alma asked him: “Have you your answer?”
Before Jet could answer a raspy voice, with some glee, cut him off. “I mean if he doesn't I sure do.”
A surprised growl tumbled out from between Alma's snaggleteeth at the unfamiliar and well-aged human's approach. The thick mohawk of purple fur stretching down from her skull, and trailing down her back and spiny tail, rustled as she pulled her head back.
Jet cleared his throat as he brokered introductions. “Alma, this is... my Commander. The man I report to, I look up to, and ultimately consulted for how I might train you. If I could train you.”
“That answer is 'yes' by the by,” the Commander promptly elaborated.
“Sir!” Jet whined.
“Oh quit dragging this out,” sassed the old man. “You've kept her waiting how long now?”
“SIR!”
Amber eyes gone wide, surprised licks of flame sputtered out from between the Anjanath's lips. “Pardon?”
“Your vigilance has not gone unnoticed, Slayer,” said the Commander. “It is by your duty and sacrifice that this whelp of mine still stands. As does Astera.”
Alma's tattered wings, draped over her broad back like a cloak, drooped. She was ill-practiced at parsing praise, much less this news, and it showed. “I... I know not what to say.” Surely. Surely she had misheard them.
The Commander dismissively swatted. “No words are needed. Your continued presence, your great work, safeguards my people. And while I sincerely doubt you carry yourself into battle with humankind in mind… we benefit immeasurably from it all the same.” Scratching at his cheek, the elderly Hunter smirked. “Were I as noble a soul as Jet here, or yourself, I might be able to say that the whole of humanity wishes to reward you for your steadfast vigil. Say it and mean it, anyway. But I'm not in the mood to bluster you with bullshit and I can't imagine you're all that inclined to hear it.”
“...If not pleasantries then what are you here to exchange?” inquired the incredulous Anjanath.
“Armaments,” answered the old timer. “After all, what good would Jet's training be without weapons of your own?”
“Surely you jest,” Alma laughed as her gaze came to rest heavily upon Ser Jet.
The Hunter popped off his helmet. Tucking it beneath an arm, long black hair rolling down past his pauldrons, Jet nodded. “It's no joke. What was it you said to me, Alma? That you need only find the courage to ask? To try? Well, I... asked.”
“And I would not wander into the wilds to waste your time much less my own,” retorted the Commander. “If only out of a selfish desire for our own self-preservation we, the whole of Astera, would grant your request and equip you with what we can. We will not, cannot, simply cower behind our protector.”
Bassy, and uncertain, growls radiated out from the Anjanath that rattled the whole of the clearing. “Humankind regards me with such reverence? T-t-there must be some sort of misunderstanding! Perhaps... perhaps it is out of fear that they respect me so?”
The Commander cackled. “Tell that to Jet,” he snorted as he thumbed to the Hunter fumbling to slip back on his helmet. “I'll readily confess to being intimidated and awed by you in equal measure, Slayer. This Hunter here, however, was quite clearly compelled by something other than cowardice to advocate on your behalf.”
“Sirrrrrrrr.”
Hand clasped to her chest, a sincere and toothy smile spread wide across Alma's mug. To think that someone, something, like her could inspire such confidence and earnest if not impossible acts of charity? The mere thought filled her breast with an unfamiliar and welcome warmth. “My... my deepest thanks, Ser Jet.”
“Maaaaaaaaybe wait to say that until you see what we've whipped up for you,” the Hunter hehed. “Alright?”
“Forgive me, Ser Jet,” Alma happily hummed. “But I am afraid you will have to suffer my gratitude at length.”
“Now provided we're not interrupting anything important... would you care to join us?” continued the Commander. “Your Sword and Shield stand at the ready and we'd appreciate it if you gave us a gut check on how bad, or good, a job we did. We've never tried scaling up something like this to such sizes before and I'm sure our inexperience will show.”
Rising to her feet with a grunt, the creak of the Anjanath's hulking frame carried across the clearing. “There is no need to debase yourself before me, Ser Commander,” she playfully growled. “I know full well the quality of your kind's crafts. That you see fit to gift me anything at all is something I shall treasure always.”
“Two, technically!” Jet ahemed. “It's uhh... they come as a pair.”
Eyes twinkling, Alma dared to hope. Long forgotten dreams, buried deep in the back of her mind, flared back to life. Lumbering forward with slow and measured steps, pulped leaves and branches exploding up from between her toes with every footfall regardless, the Anjanath eagerly fell in line behind the humans that enthralled her attention so. “Shall we then, Ser Jet? Or should I say, Trainer Jet?”
“By the Sapphire Star not you tooooo,” Jet groaned.
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 120 x 112px
Listed in Folders
10/10 Fantastic stuff. Hope you continue to expand on and make more stories in this wholesome-as-fuck version of Monster hunter.
That's the plan! Hoping to keep weaving in my silly take on Monster Hunter world building in the imminent training montage chapter to come. Already have a soft ending of sorts planned for Monster Hugger as a whole but there's enough bouncing around in my head to continue it well beyond that.
It's so sweet I love it aaaaaaaaa
Nell and Jet are so adorable!
Nell and Jet are so adorable!
Awh thank you so much for the kind words! Giant monsters being tooth rottingly sweet is apparently my niche now. XD
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