After Altaïr repeatedly swore he would never do something so distrustful of his comrades again, Isis gradually cooled off.
Of course, the feast the Felyne Chef had carefully prepared also played no small part.
This meal was, after all, an apology. Altaïr only took a steamed bun as a token gesture, and Sajji and Clawdia couldn't eat much. The rest went almost entirely into Isis's stomach, successfully stuffing her to the brim.
As it turned out, while an unhappy Isis might not necessarily think of eating, a full Isis was guaranteed to be in a better mood.
In response to Altaïr's attempts at conversation, she shifted from her earlier cold shoulder back to her usual back-and-forth banter.
Clawdia looked at her with a mix of anger and disappointment. You couldn't even ignore him until tomorrow morning?! "The Felyne Chef asked me to tell you to come eat at his place tomorrow," Altaïr said with a smile, deliberately picking topics Isis liked. "He said today's meal was a bit rushed, so tomorrow he'll cook something nice just for you."
Isis let out a satisfied burp but shook her head. "Food can wait. We came to Val Habar on business, so let's get the business done first.
"First, we need to find Uncle Smithy and see what's going on with the Estrellian materials and gear. Then we'll pay a visit to the old merchant, even if he might not be in Val Habar right now.
"Once all the official matters are settled, then we can think about having a big feast."
Altaïr's eyes widened as he feigned shock, looking her up and down several times.
"What's with that expression?" Isis's face fell again.
"Nothing, just teasing you. You must be tired today, so get some rest early." Altaïr got up with a smile, about to leave, when he suddenly remembered something and turned back to Isis.
"Speaking of which, why haven't you fixed that warpaint and the afro yet? We ran into Guildmarm Sophia earlier. She said she'd come check on you later. You'd better wash it off before she gets here and save yourself a scolding."
Isis froze for two seconds, then touched the warpaint on her face and the sea urchin-like afro in horror. "S-Sophia's already been here!"
"What was her reaction?" Altaïr asked, genuinely curious.
"She didn't come in. Told me to rest up and come see her at her office tomorrow."
"It's no big deal." Altaïr grinned. "When I came up just now, I saw Ms. Sophia in the Guild Hall foyer. I'll explain things for you on my way."
Altaïr finished speaking and was about to leave, but Isis, smoothing down her spiky hair, called out to stop him.
"Wait."
Altaïr, Sajji, and Clawdia all turned to look at her at the same time.
Isis looked straight at Altaïr. "I'm not a child anymore.
"Fine food is just a hobby for me, not something truly important. I can bear the risks in battle, and I should bear them. If I've made a mistake, I deserve the scolding, and you don't need to make excuses for me."
When she said this, her eyes were on Altaïr, but it was clearly meant for more than just him.
Clawdia, who had always treated her like a little sister, couldn't help lowering her head a bit.
"I'll wash up and get myself presentable first, then go find Aunt Sophia and explain the situation. I won't put it off until tomorrow."
With that, Isis walked out of the room on her own, leaving one person and two Felynes staring at each other inside.
"It's all your fault, meow!" Clawdia suddenly bared her fangs at Altaïr.
Altaïr looked utterly baffled. "What's my fault?"
"Isis suddenly grew up, meow!"
"Isn't growing up a good thing, meow?" Sajji asked, confused.
"Of course it's a good thing, meow!" Clawdia fixed her gaze on Altaïr, her back arching. "But it's still your fault, meow! Hiss!!!"
—--
The next morning, when they met up in the Guild Hall's main room, the intimidating warpaint on Isis's face had long since been cleaned away, and her hairstyle had returned to its usual plain, almost rustic little ponytail.
How to put it... this version of Isis put everyone at ease. "What about Lambert? Don't tell me she's still sleeping in," Altaïr asked casually.
Lambert's room was right next to Isis's, so he figured Isis would know that eccentric girl's whereabouts.
"Lambert went out very early," Isis answered. "It seems she picked up a quest at the counter and went out to hunt."
"Oh, surprisingly diligent." Altaïr was a little surprised. He'd assumed that girl would play music late into the night and then sleep in or something.
After asking Hannah behind the Quest Counter and learning that Lambert had indeed taken a quest and gone out, he didn't press further.
That girl was only 1★, and aside from that one exam, her quest completion record was a glaring "zero."
The guild receptionist Hannah's personality was a bit disappointing, but she was always serious about her work; there was no way she'd ever give Lambert a quest beyond her capabilities.
It was probably either a gathering quest, like collecting specialty cacti, or a slaying quest for Small Monsters like Jaggi. Nothing to worry about.
"Lambert mentioned this matter to me," Nymera spoke up from the side. "Yesterday, she asked around and learned there are many bonepiles in the nearby desert, so she wanted to collect bone materials and forge a Bone Set."
"That girl actually asks people for information? Wait, doesn't she already have a Bone Set?"
"Lambert simply dislikes interacting with others, not that she can't." Nymera continued, smiling. "As for the Bone Set she wore yesterday, it was provided by the tournament organizers.
"Though the organizers said she could keep it as a memento, she insisted on returning it."
"Shows backbone. That's a good thing." After saying this, Altaïr turned to Isis. "So, are we going to visit the Wyverian smith first?"
"Alright!" Isis nodded without hesitation.
The three Hunters, along with Clawdia and Hibiki, left the Guild Hall together and headed toward the Wyverian artisan's small shop.
The only one not accompanying them was Sajji. He hadn't even stayed with Altaïr overnight; before nightfall, he'd shouldered his little bundle and gone to Teacher Naziya's home.
Altaïr's mood was somewhat complicated.
He could probably understand a little of how Isis felt after discovering that Clawdia worked more seamlessly with him in battle.
—--
The Wyverian artisan's shop was, as always, located on the outskirts of Val Habar, practically in the suburbs.
This reticent, burly Wyverian had two passions: one was forging, which was why he had opened a forge; the other was taming and herding all sorts of livestock, which was why he preferred living near a beast pen.
In that sense, as a mobile city, Val Habar's livestock industry was likely the most developed in the entire Old World, bar none.
His decision to settle here could hardly be explained any other way.
Since he lived near the beast pen, there was bound to be some odor. Similar smells actually pervaded all of Val Habar, but they were far more pungent here by the pens.
Altaïr and Isis had initially worried that Nymera wouldn't be used to it; after all, visiting someone while holding your nose wouldn't exactly look good.
To their surprise, however, Nymera acted as if nothing was amiss. Only after hearing her explanation did it dawn on them.
Nymera's family might not have had herds of Popo and Aptonoth, but they kept quite a few Palamutes. And even though Palamutes were smarter and cleaner than ordinary dogs, that only went so far.
Once there were enough of them, the smell could get just as questionable. "Uncle Smithy, we've come to see you!" Isis lifted the heavy hide door curtain of the forge and called out loudly.
The brawny Wyverian, who had been hammering away at something by the forge fire, glanced at them, gave a nod, and made a "wait a moment" gesture before continuing with the work at hand.
Altaïr felt slightly dazed. Two years ago, when Isis had first brought him to meet Uncle Smithy, the scene had been much the same.
Over these two years, both he and Isis had changed considerably, in appearance and in ability.
But the Wyverian artisan looked exactly the same as he had two years ago. It even seemed his clothes hadn't changed. It was as if they had walked out the door and immediately turned right back.
Finishing the task at hand, he set aside a metal part he had just polished, stood up, and went to the back.
Before long, he returned with a tin pot, pouring a steaming cup of fresh Popo Milk for each of the three people and one Felyne, then departed again to bring back a bucket for Hibiki, who was already drooling.
This gesture instantly filled Hibiki with goodwill toward him.
"Uncle Smithy!" Isis held up a heavy cloth bag. "The best coffee beans, brought all the way from Metapetatto for you!"
The Wyverian artisan accepted the coffee beans, his perpetually stern face softening with the faintest trace of a smile. "Don't drink the Popo Milk just yet. I'll brew some coffee.
"Popo Milk is a little greasy on its own, but it pairs perfectly with coffee."
"Woof!" Hibiki, who had been just about to plunge his snout into the milk bucket, jerked his head up.
The Wyverian artisan made a "head down" gesture. "Not for you."
(Translated by yourtl.app)