"Talulah, Jeanne, get in here! Quickly! Don't let them see you wearing those clothes!"
Hearing the urgency in her voice, the two quickened their pace and rushed into the house. An old woman watched them enter, her face etched with anxiety. She peeked outside one last ti, scanning the surroundings restlessly before finally letting out a sigh of relief.
"I told you both not to wear those outfits—they're far too eye-catching! Wearing clothes like that will draw the bugs right to us!"
The old woman turned back to the stove to reheat a pot of at broth, continuing to scold them as she worked.
"Those black bugs1... they're poisonous! One bite and the land won't even grow crops anymore!" The old woman shuddered, a look of lingering fear crossing her face as if she were recalling a nightmare.
"And you, Jeanne! You're being led astray by Talulah! You can't wear those clothes; they stand out too much against the snow. If those 'bugs' spot you, we're all in for a world of trouble..."
"Wait, wasn't I the one who arrived later?" Talulah protested, clearly unconvinced. "How am I the one leading Jeanne astray?" She had heard from Jeanne that she had occasionally dressed like that long before Talulah ever showed up.
"You have the nerve to talk? Every ti you run off, you're gone for two or three days. You don't even bring back a loaf of bread when you return, and yet you're always heading out in that strange getup..."
"Grandma, we usually wear normal clothes! Besides, haven't we always managed to avoid being spotted whenever we wear these?" Talulah offered a sheepish grin. To be honest, she found it strange too—how did Jeanne manage to go out in her own clothes without ever being intercepted by anyone else?
"And I only wear this when I have business to attend to. My father gave this to ! He was robbed by a man with a glowing halo on his head and was gravely injured trying to protect these clothes. I escaped while wearing this, crying the whole way! With my father's blessing, nothing bad will happen."
Hearing this, the old woman took the bowl she was about to use for the soup and gave Talulah a sharp rap on the head.
"Bad girl! Lying again! Last ti you said it was a gift from a guy with a snake tail and that it had their Chieftain's blessing. This ti it's even more ridiculous—a man with a glowing halo on his head? If soone like that existed, why would we bother lighting candles? We'd just find one of them and save ourselves the trouble!"
"Ah... did I say that last ti? I forgot... Grandma, you have such a good mory..." Talulah tilted her head, thinking hard.
Seeing Talulah's expression—one that suggested she was trying to morize her current lie so she wouldn't trip up next ti—the grandmother couldn't help but rap her on the head again.
"Ow! I get it, I was wrong! Grandma, stop hitting ! Jeanne, help out here! Why are you just standing there watching?!"
Talulah scrambled to seek help from Jeanne, who was standing to the side enjoying the show. At first, they were both being lectured, so why was she the only one getting bonked on the head now?
Jeanne sat nearby, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She looked at the head being tapped by the bowl, almost expecting to hear a hollow echo from within.
"Alright, Grandma, take it easy. She couldn't possibly have a mory as sharp as yours. She's already not the brightest; if you keep hitting her, she'll truly turn into an idiot."
"If she truly turned into an idiot, it might be for the better! At least then she wouldn't keep running around and making lose sleep. Every ti you lie to an old woman with one foot in the grave, doesn't your heart ache?"
As the old woman spoke, she ladled out two bowls of at broth for them.
"Whoa! Is today a special occasion? at broth?! Did I forget an important date again?" Talulah was stunned. In this village, forget at broth—even having vegetable soup at every al was a luxury. at was a precious commodity, usually bartered for daily necessities.
"Hmph, what 'important date'? Jeanne caught this prey yesterday! This is the leftover at from the butchering. Otherwise, how could we be eating at at a ti like this? Eat up quickly; you two need to deliver a portion to Alina in a bit."
"Eh? Really? Jeanne caught more ga? That's amazing! Does that an we can have a barbecue later?"
"Barbecue? Are you trying to bankrupt us? at isn't ant to be wasted like that! We kept so for the house, and the old man took the rest out to trade. I expect we'll be able to get enough fabric for new clothes and quilts this year."
The grandmother looked at Talulah as if she couldn't believe the girl would suggest such a thing. She gave her another light rap on the head.
"If you really want to eat it, there's plenty of at hidden in the cellar. You, Jeanne, and Alina can sneak off to the back mountain to eat it. The harvest was poor this year; so families won't even have moss-wheat seeds for next spring. If they found out we had enough surplus to eat at, there's no telling what might happen."
"Honestly... Jeanne caught it herself, why shouldn't we be able to eat it openly?" Talulah grumbled. She knew that in a year like this, their family was already considered well-off.
She understood that even if it was earned through Jeanne's skill, envy is irrational. People would think Jeanne had stolen ga that "belonged" to them, and they might secretly sabotage the family—not for any gain, but simply because they couldn't stand soone living better than them. Never mind the fact that those villagers couldn't catch a forest beast if their lives depended on it; they'd be lucky to snag a rabbit.
"Then go catch sothing yourself! Don't you always brag about how strong you are? How co I haven't seen much of your prey lately?"
"It's not that easy to hunt! It's not like I haven't tried," Talulah muttered gloomily.
She had tried hunting, but the beasts in this area had beco incredibly cunning from their constant battle of wits with hunters. Furthermore, once they reached their top speed and dove into the deep forest, she couldn't keep up. During her first month of effort, she had only managed to bag one Tumor-Beast and a few rabbits. And that beast had been scorched by her flas, leaving most of it inedible.
As for Jeanne's thod of hunting... Talulah couldn't replicate that if she tried for a lifeti. Relying on physical stats that were even more terrifying than her own, Jeanne would simply charge straight at the prey and knock it unconscious with a single blow.
I'm a Draco! Talulah thought. Her race was among the strongest on land. What on earth is Jeanne's race?
"You know how hard it is to hunt, but those people don't care! Why do you think your grandfather is out trading at for fabric, cotton, and supplies? You think it wouldn't be easier to just wait for a rchant caravan? It's so they think we're struggling just as much as them. We have to keep them from getting jealous and causing harm."
The grandmother looked at Talulah with concern. She wasn't worried about Jeanne; the girl's cleverness and wit would ensure she thrived anywhere. But Talulah was different—this child was too "thick." People like her were the easiest to be used by others.
They were too quick to see the good in people, making them the favorite targets of those with hidden agendas. The grandmother worried that if Talulah ever married off, she'd be the type of girl who gets sold and then helps the buyer count the money.
Thankfully, Jeanne is here to look after her, the old woman thought. Surely she won't let it co to that.
I think she talking about the Infected Patrol.
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