A human who enjoys fiber crafts goes on a quest to find the perfect material to make a soft, cuddly...thing for a havenworlder friend's birthday. The havenworlder is not from a culture that celebrates birthdays. -- Anon Guest.
"This is for a Havenworlder," said the Human in the store. "I need the friendliest fibre you've got. Soft, gentle, won't tangle in their scales or rip their little baby claws if they get caught up. I'd really prefer they didn't get caught up. They panic a lot."
Craft stores see a lot of bizarre requests. Creatives often journey down strange and interesting rabbit-holes and surface in peculiar places. Anyone who makes jewellery knows the interesting possibilities of the hardware store. All creatives who make things know the irresistible lure of the Bits Shop[1], which generates bizarre requests on its own.
"And you are making this for a Havenworlder's comfort?" asked the shopkeeper. There had been a brandished pattern for a soft toy, and an explicit list of chemical compounds not safe for the intended recipient, and the sense of an impending deadline. "When is it expected?"
"Oh they're not expecting it," said the Human, inadvertently setting warning bells off inside Clerk Lakon's head. "It's a surprise for their birthday."
Ah. So this was a Human Bonding thing. A gift of time and effort to show another that they were appreciated, valued, and otherwise an accepted part of the pack. "What level Havenworlder are we talking about?"
"Species-wise, they're a level two, but with the allergies and sensitivities, they're almost at level three."
Which lead to a purchase of a phenomenal amount of chemically-inert soft stuffing, and a specifically self-loving fibre that could not, would not, and was incapable of bonding with anything else. The latter came in an assortment of vivid, yet friendly colours, and was accepted with cooing and squealing noises that indicated that the Human was very pleased indeed with this transaction.
They were still squeaking when their Havenworlder pack-mate found them and said, "Having fun, Human Daer?"
For a Level Two Havenworlder, they were remarkably good at remaining unobserved. Clerk Lakon startled and Human Daer nearly jumped out of their livesuit.
"Iwasn'tdoinganythingsneaky, youhavenoproof," babbled Human Daer. This, being an overly specific denial, immediately clued everyone in.
The Havenworlder said,"You're planning a surprise for me?"
"A little one, yeah. Nothing big and loud. Just soft and pleasant and in time for your birthday."
The Havenworlder said, "What's a birthday?"
Human Daer moaned, "Aw maaaaannn..."
They may be pack-mates, but there was evidently more room for learning about each other.
[1] Call it what you will, the dollar shop, the thing store, they are inevitably tied to poky little book stores designed by Escher in that they contain far more than they should, and often never store the same thing twice. They are inevitably attractive to maker types as they have things you cannot find elsewhere, or ever again. They also have the phenomenon of wandering in "for a quick look-around," and emerging days later with a full shopping bag, an empty wallet, and the illusion that you were only in there for five minutes. It has been postulated that such emporiums are fae realms in the modern era.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Ostancov]
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