Hi! I know it's been so long since last I uploaded a chapter but I hope you all enjoy this short one!

Notes: One normal day at The Constant with Wilson.

Shadow Realm/The Constant, dusk of the 147th day of the current world, 14 minutes or so before a certain goat mama returned home

Wilson's POV

"Today" has been such a fruitful day! For one, I could force Maxwell into manual labor (which he detests because he thinks it's beneath him). I ended up going to the caves and collecting a handful of good resources for experiments and other purposes, and I didn't encounter many monsters!

I don't really know for how long I've been gone since "time" spent at the caves runs differently, but I don't think I've been gone for more than a couple of "days" (plenty of time for Maxwell to repair everything we destroyed).

I wish there was a way to determine time accurately and reliably here, but every attempt has always ended up with a clock going crazy, breaking in my hands, or outright not moving a single gear. Frustration is too light of a word to describe what I felt all those times; after all, there have been some famous horologists in the family. It was only my honorable grandfather who decided to change gears and clock hands for vineyards and tendrils. No one dared criticize him at the time. They couldn't. Grandfather had a tendency to crush anything and anyone who tried to stop him.

He was difficult to deal with, but I loved him regardless, and despite everything that happened, I know he loved me as much.

It's been a while since I recalled anything from the past. It seems so distant now. The experiences of the past are so foreign that I feel like I'm recalling a dream rather than my own life. It's fine, though, I have had time to get used to that feeling, whatever that feeling might be. I don't believe the English language has a word for it.

It's almost dusk by the time I arrive at the camp, and all the familiar faces have already gathered around the firepit. Wes, Woodie, Wolfgang, Webber, and WX-78 all but the last greet me with a smile and a wave of a hand or paw.

"Daddy, daddy! We caught some bunnies today! Look, look! He's ours now!" Webber doesn't even wait until I reach camp before taking the rabbit from his inventory and showing it to me. My dear boy has become an expert in making and setting traps. It's no wonder that almost all of them have been successful in catching the elusive creatures.

"Webber! You did great, my boy! Did you catch one for me, too?" He doesn't have to, as we have lots of rabbits and rabbit-derived produce to last us two seasons," but I love to see that bright smile of accomplishment on the spider-child boy.

It fills my SOUL with Determination.

And love. Lots of love.

I adore this little black ball of sunshine!

"Yeah!" He answers while taking the second rabbit in his other paw, and I quickly let go of whatever tools I have in my hands. "Come here!" His giggles make him vibrate in my hands as I lift him up (rabbits included). "Well done, my baby boy!" Since physics doesn't work here, I can't actually throw him up, but I compensate by lifting him up and down with a certain force. I'm not sure if the acceleration force is noticeable enough for the little buddy or if there is any, but the action makes him enjoy himself, so I won't be questioning him on it. I don't know if there is a way to make the question kid-friendly either.

A few rounds of the same treatment later, I'm happy enough with the resulting sniggering child, so I let him go to do whatever else Miss Wickerbottom has assigned him to do today. And speaking of which, I must apologize to Miss Wickerbottom for what happened the last time we saw each other. It's not fair to make her responsible for rearing all of us when we misbehave like toddlers. I shouldn't be behaving like an unsupervised child, but Maxwell is the only person who brings forth my most impulsive reactions.

Every time I look at him, I feel like I might get robbed, cheated, assaulted, smacked, or tortured in one way or another… In short, there is no way to lower your guard around the man without regretting it.

"Been a couple of days, eh?" Woodie waves at me with Lucy in hand. I smile at them apologetically. More often than not, it's him (and Miss Lucy; she almost never leaves Woodie's side) the ones who put up with everyone's slack when we leave the main base. He's such a good pal! "I'm sorry, my good friend! The caves have been abundant these days, and one has to take advantage of "the good weather"! How is everyone doing, by the way? Where is Willow at?" I send my questions his way, however, it is Webber the one to answer me.

"Aunty Willow and Wendy went to the farms! She said she wanted to talk to her in private. I think Wendy is in trouble." Webber is a very intuitive child despite his mental age. He is able to perceive the general mood of us adults and act accordingly. For example, he knows not to disobey Willow, but he also knows he can count on her through thick and thin, no matter what.

"Huh? That little buddy got herself into trouble again? No wonder! She's not quite herself when yer not around!" Woodie takes a quick look at the path leading to the farms while scratching his beard. He doesn't say it, but he's always trying to look out for Wendy as much as he can after those incidents.

Wendy used to leave the camp with Miss Lucy to… hurt herself, but Miss Lucy's spirit (or what's left of her conscious mind) discouraged her from trying again a third time. I thanked Miss Lucy for helping us out, but she didn't seem to understand my words at that time. Woodie, however, felt very guilty for allowing it to happen in the first place until Willow and I sat him down and explained that it wasn't his fault. Wendy's inner demons are the ones to blame.

I thank Woodie and tap Miss Lucy's hilt twice (she seems to perceive that touch as a positive one), and take off with Webber in my arms. From the periphery of my vision, I catch Maxwell on his way out of his tent. I quickly sneak behind a stone wall before he can see me. It's not like I'm hiding from him, but it's better if I lay low for a while! I sigh before making my way out of the camp.

The expanse of the new and old farms lay in front of us as darkness swallows it all.

Nighttime has fallen.

Notes: The calm before the storm...