The afternoon light slanted across the clearing as we laid the deer hide out on a flat patch of grass. The air still carried the faint smell of boiled stew from yesterday, and Lily lounged nearby, her tail sweeping slow arcs through the dirt.
We laid the deer hide flat on a clean patch of ground, still stiff from drying. I pressed my hand over it; the surface was smooth but tough. Good material.
Then, using the hides I'd stored earlier, I quietly began my work.
First, I trimmed off the uneven edges with a sharp stone blade. Then I scraped the inner side again to remove the last bits of membrane — the part that would rub against his skin if left untouched.
"Feel this," I said, pushing the cleaner section toward him.
Menko: "It's softer… not as sticky."
"Exactly. Shoes need comfort, not rot."
I showed him how to fold the hide over a rough wooden mold shaped like a foot. We didn't have proper tools, but improvisation worked fine. I poked stitching holes around the sides using a pointed bone, spacing them evenly with quick taps.
Menko: "How do you even know all this?"
"Years of random stuff I never thought I'd use."
He watched as I cut a thin, long strip from the hide, rolling it between my palms to smooth it into a lace.
Menko: "This part looks… delicate."
"It is. Pull too hard and it snaps. Too soft and the shoe falls apart. Balance, Menko."
He threaded the lace through the holes I made, hands careful, almost gentle. The leather slowly tightened into the shape of a crude but sturdy moccasin.
Menko: "This is kind of… fun."
"Useful fun."
He tugged the final knot snug and held the shoe up with both hands.
Menko: "This actually looks like something someone could wear."
"Someone will. Try it."
He slipped the first one on, wiggling his toes, then we repeated the process for the second shoe. By the time we were done, he stood up, testing his new steps on the dirt.
Menko: "Whoa… these feel good. Really good."
"Better than walking on thorns, huh?"
Menko: "You joke, but yes."
He took a few more steps, then stopped and stared at me, faceless but somehow expressive all the same.
Menko: "Vassel… every time you teach me something, it feels like the world gets bigger. What else do you know?"
"That depends. How much do you want to learn?"
Menko: "All of it."
With the leatherwork finished and the tools cleaned, the clearing finally settled into a quiet rhythm. Menko walked a few steps in his new shoes, feeling the soles, testing the fit, while Lily kept close behind him.
I checked the bunker entrance one last time. "Alright. That's all the essentials. Food, shelter, farming, basic crafting. Anything else can wait until we reach your village."
Menko turned toward me, confident and certain.
Menko: "Good. It's far, but I remember the way. If we follow the right landmarks, we'll reach it in about a month."
That matched what he'd said before. At least he wasn't wandering blind.
He hesitated for a moment.
Menko: "Back then… when I asked for your name, you refused. Why?"
I let out a low breath. "Because everything came at me at once. You, the village, this entire world changing… I didn't need more questions. I needed answers. So I shut down for a moment."
Menko: "So it wasn't because you didn't trust me."
"It wasn't that," I said. "I was overloaded. That's all."
He accepted that without pushing, giving a simple nod.
Menko: "Alright. If we're leaving soon, we should start getting ready. Light packs. Tools. Food that lasts. Water we can refill along the river."
"You handle the route," I said. "I'll handle supplies."
Menko: "Deal."
He took a few steps toward the treeline, then looked back at me.
Menko: "You know… with all the things you've shown me—farming, crafting, even how you think about problems—I realized something."He paused.
Menko: "There's still a lot I don't know. And you clearly have more to teach."
I crossed my arms. "If you want to learn, you'd better keep up. It's a long road."
The evening sun spilled golden light across the clearing. Menko crouched near Lily, who stretched lazily across the dirt, tail sweeping slow arcs. AIN hovered nearby, sensors scanning her massive frame, still unable to interpret her subtle signals.
"Today," I said, voice calm, "you'll also teach AIN how to understand Lily. Then you'll show her how to help with the farm."
Menko: "Consider it done."
I stepped aside. "Let's see it."
Menko approached Lily, crouching low. "AIN," he said slowly, "look at her."
Lily lifted a paw and tapped the basket she carried, nudging it toward him. AIN's lights flickered as he registered the movement.
Menko: "See that? Basket full. She's done for the day. That's how she tells us."
AIN tilted, imitating the gesture awkwardly. "So… basket full. Noted. You expect me to read intent from oversized paw gestures. Charming."
Menko shook his head slightly. "No. Don't translate words. Watch her, learn the meaning, then respond the same way."
Lily let out a soft growl and pawed the soil near a pile of herbs. Menko crouched beside her, demonstrating the motion exaggeratedly.
Menko: "When she digs like this, it means she wants to collect more. When she taps the basket, she's finished. Copy what she does, not what she says."
AIN extended his manipulators, hesitating, then imitated Lily's pawing, lifting and moving small bundles of herbs.
AIN: "Fine. Mimicry mode activated. This is remarkably… tedious."
I stepped closer. "Good start. Gestures first. Sounds second. She reacts to context, not orders."
By the second day, AIN could anticipate Lily's movements — when she was curious, hungry, or tired — and respond appropriately. Menko demonstrated subtleties: a tilt of the head, a pause before digging, a flick of the tail. AIN adjusted, learning to interpret them almost instinctively. Lily seemed to recognize his efforts, offering small nudges or a quiet hum of approval.
Menko: "He's starting to get it. But he'll still make mistakes. Let him. That's how he learns."
AIN: "Mistakes are part of my charm, apparently. I'll try not to break anything critical."
I nodded. "Exactly. Once he responds properly, the farm will run itself. You'll be free to guide me to the village without worrying."
By the third day, the real farm work began. Menko gestured to the small potato patch. "See how we plant, water, and pull weeds? Watch."
Lily crouched low, sniffing at the ground. AIN mimicked Menko's instructions in real time, digging small furrows, patting soil, and lifting seedlings. Menko guided her paw toward the young shoots.
Menko: "Pull gently, not too hard. Dig here. Carry that to the compost. You help, and we all eat better."
Lily nudged AIN's manipulator once, then tried herself, moving small clumps of soil. AIN followed, correcting her movements, nudging her gently when she misplaced a pile.
AIN: "Apparently, soil likes gentle persuasion. Who knew?"
The rhythm slowly became natural — a three-way coordination that didn't require words, only observation and imitation.
I observed quietly. "This is exactly why he needs you. AIN can command, but he wouldn't know what Lily wants without your guidance."
Menko shrugged. "She trusts me. I just have to show her how to listen. Then AIN shows her how to help."
By the fourth day, the pattern was established. Menko gave short instructions, AIN carried them out, and Lily followed, digging, carrying, and adjusting her movements to match their instructions. The farm was no longer just a patch of soil — it was a coordinated team.
Menko: "In a few days, they'll manage. We will be able to travel without worrying."
AIN: "Manage, survive, possibly even thrive. I'll try not to let them accidentally kill themselves before you're gone."
I nodded. "Exactly. Everything else we'll figure out along the way."
Lily tapped a basket to indicate completion. AIN responded by moving it to the compost pile. Menko watched, smiling faintly.
Menko: "He's not perfect, but she understands him now. That's enough."
AIN: "Perfection is overrated. But yes, acceptable efficiency achieved."
I stepped closer. "This is why we leave them. You, the guide. Me, the logistics. AIN and Lily, the caretakers. All balanced."
Menko tilted his head, studying the clearing. "You've taught me so much already. I wonder… what else can you show me?"
"That depends on how fast you can keep up. The village is a month away. First, let's make sure they're ready to hold the fort."
The sun sank behind the trees. Shadows stretched over the farm, now alive with rhythm: Menko guiding AIN, AIN translating instructions, Lily digging, moving, and learning.
By evening, the three of them moved almost like a single unit. Menko gave a short gesture, AIN executed, and Lily followed without hesitation. I leaned back against the bunker wall, satisfied. The farm could sustain itself, at least long enough for our month-long journey.
Menko turned to me, still eager, still curious.
Menko: "You've shown me tools, farming, and crafting. But there's more out there, isn't there? Things I don't even know I want to learn?"
AIN: "Yes, more things. And I have opinions. Some might even be interesting."
I gave a faint nod. "There's always more. But some lessons have to wait until the road."
Menko tilted his head, eyes scanning the horizon. "Good. Then I'll keep up. And I'll listen. When we travel, you'll teach me everything — about the world you came from, not just the things I need to survive."
AIN: "And I'll make sure you don't trip over rocks while you learn. Not that you would, probably."
"We'll see," I said, standing, glancing toward the forest trail. "For now, let's leave the farm in good hands."