There are so many people in the world.

Not just this one. In Tirra as well.

There are so many things to care about. 

There are so many huge and little tragedies occurring, all the time. People tangled up in their own thoughts, and hurting each other because they don't know any better. People who would be good and happy if only they could trust that moment of connection, of empathy and vulnerability.

Mortals would tire of this, doing everything they can and there always being more to do. She does not. She looks and loves and gives and loves and does not stop. One after another. Always more people in need, always more people to connect to, to see, to help.

A man from the ocean is being interrogated in a cold stone box by suspicious-eyed guards, he just wanted to meet people from dry land. That sincerity, that open friendliness, being met with fear- She loves them. But if she whispers in an ear- 

A woman is pregnant and the man who got her that way ran off as soon as he found out. She screams and rages, calling herself a fool, and him a bastard, but it was no crime to want the touch of another. She loves her. She can't help more than a sense of a comforting pat.

A man, a great musician, wrapped up in his own head, neurotic and anxious, sure that nobody really understands the deep and intense joy of practice and composition. She loves him. She tells him that his songs are good- Look, the laundry-lady down the way is humming it right now-

An elderly winged woman is wondering where her long-lost daughter might be and if she ever found the happiness she couldn't at home, not knowing that said daughter is not two miles away, searching for her. She loves them. But if she whispers in an ear-

A woman feels a deep yawning loneliness, even when surrounded by friends, a connection that's never fully complete. Always reaching out and it never being enough, and just sadly accepting that, but reaching out, reaching out- She loves her. She reaches back and shows how lonely all those other sparks aren't, because of her, and how she is appreciated and loved. (This one is more like her than most. A very little bit of her reaches - through, and sticks, with a distant barely-there distracted recognition and appreciation- Is that... One of Tamamo's, it seems? Aww, poor dear, so overwhelmed at the scrutiny. Tamamo, will she be alright? Oh? Well, if you say so...)

A man, drunk, despondent, because he hurt his wife and-----------

Lharmis feels the touch on her mind, of something foreign and gigantic, but so, so gentle and loving all the same.

She bursts into tears.

And when she has collected herself, she knows that she is loved. She knows it like she knows which way is down, like she knows where her hand is in space.

She reaches out to the hospital, of course, because she can probably go off of her medication now.

Their advice is — if your brain just did something weird, don't potentially upset everything by changing your medication. Continue to take it as normal. But if things are still stable in a month, talk to your doctor about it. Here, we can schedule you an appointment, how's about that? Yeah, their schedule is a little full. We're getting a lot of people who are having reactions to hearing about the aliens. Yes, it's all covered under your existing policy. Okay, great, see you in a month.

(The þereminian hospital system is deliberately overbuilt and overstaffed as an emergency-preparedness measure, because people care a lot about knowing medical care will be available when they need it, but that doesn't mean they're not busy. Especially when, predictably, a lot of people are suddenly reporting hearing voices from aliens. It happens whenever there's a new popular fantasy series too, although usually not so badly as this.)

So Lharmis tells her online mythology friends about her experience, and mentions to her neighbors about it, but it's not as though her belief in the power of love is exactly new, so few of her neighbors remark on it.

And the world continues to spin.

Over on the smaller continent, it continues to spin under a hairdresser who finishes working out the last patch of Weiss's fur.

"Do you want a ... you put it in your hair, and the hair is soft and shiny and fluffy?" she asks her, in broken Notal. "Or anything else? I also do, uh, making your finger-knives the same on both sides."

"Finger knives? Hihihihi. Finger nails. Like you use on wood. If you don't mind, yes? Thank you. It's nice to be pampered sometimes... All the fuss is so much, but I'd feel bad if I hid while people freaked out, you know?"

She gets a set of nail files from her bag.

"It's good to be pampered," she agrees, looking over Weiss's nails with a professional eye. "It is ... making the world nice, that people can get relaxing."

She shows Weiss a little card of different nail styles, although presumably she can't read the captions.

"Do you want, uh, just a little to be the same on both sides, or flat or like a circle or like a nail? Like a circle is comfy, but flat is ... showing off and like a nail is, uh."

She makes a face. "Sorry, I don't know the word. Good for hurting people in the fun way? Or yourself?"

"...Huh. Hmm. Showing off like 'I'm very fancy and rich' or showing off like, 'like what you see? Want to see more'? --If you do it to my fox shape it won't be on my human shape. Fox nails shouldn't mean the same thing as human nails, and I want my fox nails sharp because I like the idea and nothing else."

"Flat is showing off 'I'm fancy and rich'," she agrees. She takes the file and starts gently neatening up and sharpening Weiss's nails.

"Because ... it is hard not to catch the corners on things, you see? Probably nobody will think you are being 'want to see more' if your nails are sharp because fox nails are supposed to sharp. It's like nobody will think I am being Prince Taveritik* because my hair is brown, because my hair is brown really. But if my hair was white really and I made it brown people might notice."

* A fictional prince who is somewhat popular to cosplay, as these things go. Also she just likes the show, okay?

"Also people probably won't think you mean anything with your nails because you are a Kitsune, and there are no other Kitsune to say 'this is how it means'. Do you want your human nails to match your fox nails?"

"I feel like staying a fox for now, so no." It's not cheap energy wise to constantly swap, not that she'll say so out loud.

"There's a lot of things like nail shapes that I don't even know to ask about. I know about red now but what else am I missing and is it important?  I don't know."

She switches to her next paw.

"There is a book!" she says. "For people who are coming to Central River City. It has the clothes and the nails and the titles. But the most, uh, important ones ..."

She thinks for a minute.

"Red is important. Not —" she grabs her own breast demonstratively "— is important. Everything else is not important. It is a ... it is fun for people to know you and know how to talk to you, so it is a way to tell them how you want to be talked to without talking. But you can also just tell them, and that's okay. Lots of people, they can't remember the nails, or they have to have them flat to not hurt themselves, or things like that."

"Oh! Do not, uh ..." she mimes spitting. "Do not putting mouth juices on people. That's important. I don't know about," she mimes licking, "though. Maybe it is okay because you are a fox, and animals do that."

"Hihihi, no spitting, yes. I'm not great at languages but I'd like to see the book... I might lick people playfully without thinking about it? If I like them and I'm having fun. A lot of ordinary fox things feel natural for me to do like this, like rolling on my back or taking small things because it's funny, or chasing my tail or hiding and jumping out to surprise people... I will keep it in mind. And not touch anyone in sex ways. I hope those are the same mostly for you and humans from Tirra."

"If they are humans, they are probably the same!" the hairdresser agrees. "If not, it is okay. Things happen and people will tell you. When I have done with your nails, I ask them to send the book. Probably someone can make a Notal book?"

"It will be useful to more people than just me if I can fix the rift, so I don't even feel like I'm asking for something a little bit unreasonable and silly!"

She makes a face.

"The, uh, what was the fucking word ... City ... people ... Government! The government is supposed to give people the visiting-the-city stuff in a language that they speak it," she replies. "So even if you did not ask, they would have to do it. It is just taking time to learn Notal and do the everything."

She sets down Weiss's paw and looks her in the eye.

"But also asking for things that you want is not bad. Lots of people, they have trouble learning that. I spend my life helping with hair, and nobody needs help with hair. We could all be bald! But people want hair, and I want to make them feel good with it, and that is not bad."

She takes her last paw to start work on it.

"When people come to me the first time, for their hair, I many times have to tell them: it is okay. You are not bad for wanting pretty hair."

She takes a moment to remember why she started talking, and then tacks on "... or other nice things that are not hair."

She makes a - not quite a growl or purr kind of noise. It sounds vaguely complaining. More a whine than anything else but also not that.

"...Yeah, I know. I just keep feeling different and having to hit that feeling with sticks, mentally speaking. It gets better when I know people, as a group or as individuals."

"Feelings are hard," she agrees. "It is easy to be nice to other people and hard to be nice to yourself."

She wipes off her file and stores it away.

"Okay! Your nails are sharp. Is there anything else you want? They are paying me lots and by time, so take as much of time as you want. I could ..."

She mimes braiding.

"... if you wanted? Or tell you about clothes, or just talk?"

Gack. Pay. Money. Eaugh ough blergh.

Her ears droop.

"I feel much better already... I'm not sure about braiding my fur though. I've forgotten your name if you ever mentioned it."

"I didn't. I'm Kaþerva," she says. "I usually don't give my name because some people just want silence and doing, but you were a talking person, not a silence person."

She's also a people person, and she can read those droopy ears just fine.

"... I don't know what I said to make you —"

She mimes ears moving down with her hands.

"— but I'm sorry. I hope I helped more than that."

"I'm having scary thoughts about money and paying for things and how expensive - all this - is. It doesn't seem like a thing for you to talk about. And you did help. I might come looking for you again later, Kaþerva! I'm Weiss, but I'm sure you know that."

Ah. Yeah, talking to Weiss about money is definitely above her paygrade. She does hair.

"Okay! Come visit any time, Weiss. It was good to meet you!"

She picks up her bag and makes her way out. She nods at the diplomat as she goes by, and stops in the situation tent to mention that Weiss wants a copy of The Laws and Customs of Central River City.

For the next little while she will pad around the quarantined-off area, appreciating the feeling of nice sharp clicky claws and well-groomed fur. Isn't her tail pretty? And if she's wandering around she feels less like a SPECIMEN waiting for some undecided fate. She's not very directed about it, though. She'll chat with people if people want to chat (in Notal, she's not even really trying to learn SC... Whatever again today...).

Plenty of people want to chat! The medical folks have a plan to lift the quarantine fairly soon, because lots of people are willing to take health risks to get a chance to talk to Weiss and they haven't seen evidence of anything particularly novel or virulent. Mostly, they're just waiting on the city being reorganized to get everyone who definitely doesn't want to take the risk relocated. But for now, there are two shifts of people here, and only one of those shifts is on duty. The others are hanging out in the clear space behind the tent, out of the way of anyone with an actual task, variously talking and playing games.

The most energetic game is something like a cross between corn-hole and a Notal vocabulary quiz — you can score points by either getting a ball through a target with different sizes of hole on it, or by spelling a Notal word correctly given the definition, before your opponent does.

If she walks over to investigate the area, one of the people sitting watching the game will offer her some sweet-and-spicy broth that a knot of people are sipping from paper cups.

Hah. She's a little tempted to cheat with her native-ness, but she'll restrain herself to cheekily answering one vocab-question very quickly and then lapping at a cup of the broth and enjoying the ambiance of fun.

The broth is both hot (temperature) and hot (spiciness), which makes it not the ideal beverage for lapping. But it does warm her up.

Someone discretely checks on their phone whether any of the ingredients are poisonous to foxes, and is relieved to discover that it is probably fine.

After a little while, one of the off-duty Emergency Services personnel sidles up to her and tries to figure out whether she's open to a conversation.

"What is music like, in Tirra?" they ask, after a moment. "How many, uh, —" they sing a note "— are there in a — " they sing a scale.

"I'm not really a music person? That sounds sort of off... Hmm..."

She discovered her ease and flexibility with illusions early on, but all the music she vaguely remembers from two worlds ago is, well, vague...

But she'll illusion up what is maybe a good rendition of some sort of Beethoven... Unless she's rounding off all classical music to Beethoven...

"I have a good memory for sounds, I think because of the brain parts needed to do illusions well, but I don't know things about the songs."