Chapter 402 Making a Nest

Suzuka looked up from where she was tending to Kaka, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of Hermit and the crate he carried.

 “What’s that?” 

Hermit didn’t answer right away. He set the crate down gently near the fire, his hands trembling as he peeled back the layers of hay and cloth to check on the hatchlings. They chirped softly, their tiny heads poking out as they blinked up at him, their eyes reflecting the firelight.

Kaka, who had been lying still on the makeshift bed, turned his head weakly toward the sound. His swollen eyes widened in recognition, and a faint smile touched his cracked lips.

 “The... the hatchlings... You... you found them...”

Hermit nodded, his eyes filling with tears as he looked at Kaka. 

“I did. They’re safe now. They’re all here.”

Hermit wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice trembling but filled with pride.

 “They’re fragile, but they’re strong, Kaka, good ears, big ears. Healthy hatchlings. They just need warmth and care.”

Kaka’s smile widened, though it was weak and pained. 

“You... you did well, Hermit. I knew... I knew you would.”

Suzuka leaned against the wall near the makeshift window, her arms crossed and her expression one of thinly veiled irritation. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Hermit and Kaka, who were engrossed in a conversation filled with rapid, guttural goblin gibberish. She couldn’t understand a word of it, and the constant back-and-forth was starting to grate on her nerves.

“You know,” she muttered under her breath, “it’d be nice if someone filled me in on what’s going on. But no, let’s just chatter away in goblin like I’m not even here.”

She sighed loudly, pushing herself off the wall and stepping over to the window. With a flick of her finger, she nudged the tattered cloth covering aside and peered out into the snowstorm. The wind howled, and the snow fell in thick, relentless sheets, obscuring most of the landscape. Suzuka’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the area, her instincts on high alert. If whoever—or whatever—had attacked the breeding farm was still out there, they could return at any moment. She wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“Keep talking, you two,” she said not looking away from the window. 

“I’ll just stand here and make sure we don’t all get slaughtered in our sleep. No big deal.”

Hermit, oblivious to Suzuka’s annoyance, was busy gathering materials to improve the hatchlings’ nest. He scurried around the shed, collecting scraps of cloth, extra hay, and even a few pieces of dried moss he found tucked in a corner. The hatchlings chirped softly from their crate, their tiny heads poking out as they watched him with curious eyes.

“Don’t worry, little ones,” Hermit said in a soft, soothing voice, his goblin tongue flowing naturally.

 “I’ll make you a proper nest. Nice and warm, just like it should be.”

Kaka, lying on the makeshift bed, watched Hermit with a faint smile. His voice was weak, but he managed to croak out a few words of encouragement.

 “You’re... doing well, Hermit. They’re lucky... to have you.”

Hermit’s cheeks flushed with pride, and he nodded eagerly.

 “I’ll take care of them, Kaka. Just like you took care of me when I was little.”

Hermit moved with a quiet urgency, his small hands deftly working to create a safe and warm haven for the hatchlings. He knew they were fragile, their tiny bodies barely able to withstand the cold, and he was determined to give them the best chance at survival. The crate he had initially used was a good start, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to make something better—something that would keep them warm, secure, and protected.

First, he cleared a space near the fire, ensuring the nest would be close enough to the warmth. He dragged the crate over and emptied it of the hay and cloth he had hastily thrown in earlier. Then, he began to layer the bottom of the crate with soft, dry moss he had found in the shed. The moss was springy and insulating, perfect for creating a comfortable base.

Next, he gathered the softest scraps of cloth he could find. He folded them carefully, creating a thick, padded layer on top of the moss. The hatchlings chirped softly as they watched him work, their tiny eyes following his every move. Hermit smiled at them, his voice gentle as he spoke.

“Don’t worry, little ones. I’m making it nice and cozy for you. You’ll be warm soon.”

Once the base was ready, Hermit turned his attention to the walls of the crate. He began lining the inside with more moss and cloth, stuffing the gaps tightly to block any cold air. 

For the top of the nest, Hermit fashioned a makeshift canopy using a larger piece of cloth. He draped it over the crate, securing it with twine to create a snug, enclosed space. The canopy would help trap the heat from the fire while also shielding the hatchlings from any stray drafts. He left one corner slightly open for ventilation, ensuring the nest wouldn’t become too stuffy.

Finally, Hermit carefully placed the hatchlings into their new home, one by one. They chirped and clicked as he settled them onto the soft bedding, their tiny bodies sinking into the layers of moss and cloth. He tucked them in gently, making sure each one was comfortable and warm. The hatchlings immediately began to burrow into the softness, their chirps growing quieter as they relaxed.

To add an extra layer of warmth, Hermit placed a few heated stones near the nest. He had warmed them by the fire and wrapped them in cloth to prevent the hatchlings from accidentally touching the hot surfaces. The stones radiated a gentle heat, creating a cozy microclimate within the nest.

As a final touch, Hermit hung a small, makeshift curtain over the open side of the crate, using another scrap of cloth. This would allow him to check on the hatchlings without exposing them to too much cold air. He stepped back to admire his work, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Kaka, watching from his bed, gave a weak but approving nod.

 “You’ve... done well, Hermit. They’re... lucky to have you.”

Suzuka, still standing guard by the window, glanced over at the nest.

 “Yeah, not bad, Hermit. I’m almost impressed.”

The fire crackled softly in the corner of the shed, casting a warm, flickering glow over the small space. Kaka lay on the makeshift bed, his breathing shallow but steady, his body finally beginning to relax. His eyes fluttered open occasionally, but he was too weak to stay conscious for long, drifting in and out of sleep. Hermit sat beside him, a damp cloth in hand, gently wiping the sweat from Kaka’s face.

Suzuka stood near the window, her arms crossed as she stared out into the snowstorm. 

“We’re not going anywhere tonight. Not in this storm. And not with him like that.” 

She gestured toward Kaka, who was now completely unconscious.

Hermit nodded, his ears drooping slightly. 

“I... I think you’re right, Master Helen. Kaka needs rest, and the hatchlings... they’re safe for now. But...” 

He hesitated, glancing toward the crate where the tiny creatures were nestled in their cozy nest. They chirped softly, their tiny heads poking out from the layers of cloth and hay.

 “But what? Don't leave me hanging.”

Hermit fidgeted, his hands twisting together nervously.

 “The hatchlings... they’re hungry. I don’t have anything to feed them. I was hoping... maybe you could help?”

“Oh, you were hoping, were you? Let me get this straight. You, the genius who decided to run off butt naked into a snowstorm without a single thought or plan, now have the audacity to ask me for help? After I explicitly told you to prepare before leaving? After I warned you not to do something stupid?”

Hermit’s face flushed with embarrassment, and he looked down at his feet, unable to meet her gaze.

 “I... I know I messed up, Master Helen. But the hatchlings—”

“The hatchlings wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d listened to me in the first place,” Suzuka snapped, her voice rising slightly.

 “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you looked, running around in the snow with no clothes, no supplies, no plan? And now you’re standing here, asking me to clean up your mess again?”

Hermit’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded meekly.

 “I’m sorry. I just... I didn’t think. I was so worried about Kaka, and I—”

“Yeah, yeah, you were worried. Worry doesn’t keep you alive, Hermit. Preparation does. Planning does. But no, you just had to charge in like some kind of heroic idiot, and now here we are, stuck in a shed in the middle of a snowstorm, with a half-dead goblin and a bunch of squealing hatchlings. And guess who gets to fix it all? Me. Because apparently, I’m the only one here with a brain.”

Hermit’s ears flattened against his head, and he looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. 

“I... I’ll do better next time, Master Helen. I promise.”

There was a long pause as Suzuka stared at Hermit, her sharp eyes boring into him with reluctant amusement. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let out a low, muttered curse under her breath. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she reached for her magical storage item. She tapped it lightly, and with a faint shimmer, a few large loaves of bread materialized in her hands.

She tossed them at Hermit while saying, “Here. You better keep them alive. They’ll grow into strong workers for my town. Efficient, too, if they’re anything like you. I guess this trip wasn’t completely for nothing—you managed to snag quite a few of them there.”

Hermit caught the loaves clumsily, his eyes wide with surprise and gratitude.

 “Th-thank you, Master! I’ll make sure they’re fed and healthy. They’ll grow up strong, I promise!”