You too?

ㅤ Going on a journey after literally losing the meaning of life was the right decision. Gradually, Ivar came to life, letting go of the past. He learned to smile at natural little things, even a butterfly on a flower. It wasn't quite working yet, but it was enough to rekindle the inextinguishable energy that always welled up within the tireless handmaid of the "deceased" Maxwell. If only he had known… But he didn't know, and he even learned to live with it. The world turned out to be much larger and more mysterious than he thought. There were even species he hadn't suspected: otters that could dress themselves and walk upright! Each one carried a closed oyster on a string—a favorite toy. 'How cute!' Ivar's heart fluttered. "A guest?" the otters exchanged glances, each repeating to the other, "A guest?" Three of the bravest otters, dressed in different colors—red, green, and yellow—stepped forward, smiling and offering: "Tea, ors?" 'They even know how to brew tea!' Ivar's breath caught in his throat with affection. Ivar was happier than ever that he understood animals. Would any ordinary person in their right mind have thought otters would offer them tea? "Won't it be hard for you?" Ivar asked worriedly. "You have paws, after all." The otters looked at each other in confusion, not understanding how one thing connected with the other. "We're waiting for our friend," said the one in green and the charming hat with the feather. "Tea's almost ready, ors. You can join us: the more people, the merrier, ors!" "As you say! Ors!" Ivar said enthusiastically, standing proudly, hands on his hips, and smiling broadly. These creatures seemed to wash away all worries and sorrows. 'So their friend helped them,' it dawned on him, and everything fell into place. Ivar didn't even consider that their friend might not be human. His first thought was of a child playing with animals instead of dolls. He'd built them little houses and brought them all sorts of interesting things. He'd even made some inedible oyster gels especially for his furry friends! 'And the kid knows a thing or two about perversion…' The mere smell made Ivar uneasy, and he was afraid to try it. They led him through a small cave village. The otters even had their own shops—a real civilization! They stopped at the furthest house. It was quite large for three otters: Ivar didn't even have to duck. There was a second floor, but they settled on the ground floor. The hospitable otters poured tea themselves—no paws were a hindrance. Ivar was extremely surprised. "If you need help, just ask," he reminded them with concern as the little paws first reached for the hot teapot. "No, no, you're our guest, ors!" "A guest shouldn't bother himself, ors!" "We're good hosts, ors!" The three otters spoke one after another, without mixing phrases, having caught their wave. Over delicious tea—not at all reeking of fish, unlike everything else in the village—idle conversation took place. Ivar learned from them that the little animals had once lived elsewhere, but had been driven out by the Long Long Demon. They also told him how they had once found and raised a child. However, he had few human friends, so they asked Ivar to befriend him. 'Poor child!' Ivar was touched. 'Wait… If he was raised by wild animals, then he… He probably can't even speak properly! It's going to be a tough job…' Ivar was just beginning to ponder the process of educating and socializing the child when the "little savage" appeared, shouting loudly from behind him: "Quppo, Pippo, Poppo, I'm back!" "Jay!" 'A child indeed: such a childish name for little animals…' But as soon as Ivar turned around, he saw a boy the same age as himself. "Oh," Jay deigned to notice Ivar, "so this is the guest they were talking about in the village? Hmm…" he squinted, studying him. "Interesting. Judging by your robes, you're the handmaid of Maxwell from Nia Khera. Am I right?" Pleased with his demonstrated knowledge, the boy straightened proudly, waiting for a reaction. 'How does he know?! No, wait, they were talking in the village?.. So he…' "You understand animals too?" "Huh?" Jay said, puzzled: this was not the retort he expected. "It seems handmaids of the Supreme Spirit don't require high intellect…" "What!?" "How dare you…!?" Ivar tried to flare up, standing up abruptly and towering over the short, insolent boy. "Oresoren are Oresoren, they're not animals, and they speak human language." "Huh?" It was Ivar's turn to express bewilderment. 'Don't tell me…' he realized, but didn't admit his stupidity, 'that they've been speaking human language this whole time, and I didn't even notice…' "Well, it seems you're not completely lost yet, since you can admit your mistakes," Jay spread his arms, clearly egging his guest on, while tying his hands. If Ivar attacked now, he'd cement his status as an idiot. 'What a little bastard!' Ivar seethed quietly, remaining silent, for any word he uttered at that moment would have expressed genuine anger and indignation. "Here, have some more tea," Pippo said, filling the cup again with a smile, while moving the freshly bakery closer to the guest. Ivar sat back down irritably and stuffed his mouth with a bun, without drinking it, in order to drown out all his dissatisfaction, which he had muttered incoherently while chewing—it made him feel a little better. 'I will never be friends with him!' he thought to himself. Jay wasn't exactly looking for friends either. But the trio of not-otters were very persistent, so he was forced to at least get acquainted. And his interest in non-humans kept Ivar coming back for more visits, despite the constant squabbles with Jay, which had become a tradition at some point… ㅤ