Repurposed | Quirrel x Sheo x Nailsmith

Chapter Eleven: In Which Sheo Gets A Letter

Slowly, things started to get better.

There was still tension, more notable at certain times than at others, but things were getting better.

Quirrel was spending multiple days organizing the books they brought back from the city; he seemed to use it as a happy distraction. The sheer amount of books seemed unnecessary to The Nailsmith, but Sheo didn't seem to have an opinion on it. How much reading could one bug possibly do? Briefly, The Nailsmith thought about the last thing he had read, remembered it was an order of a nail from one of his customers, and considered that he had surely done enough reading to last a lifetime.

The days passed mostly in silence. Sheo had begun a painting of the grand library they had visited in the city, and to dull the quiet he would hum a tune or mumble to himself about what he was painting. Every once in a while, he would step back and ask The Nailsmith or Quirrel what they thought about it so far, to which they could only respond by saying it was coming along great, as they had no experience with art and couldn't find any flaws in Sheo's brush strokes anyhow.

The Nailsmith had started a new project as well, as he had begun to make vases with intricate designs engraved in the clay. He had failed multiple times already, the designs never turning out quite right, but with Sheo's encouragement, he kept trying. Most of the vases ended up being mushed back down into a conglomerate of clay, mostly as a way for The Nailsmith to take out his frustration, but a small collection of finished vases had begun. Quirrel had put them on top of an easy-to-see shelf. Sheo found himself looking in their direction many times a day.

The days started to become rather routine in a simple way, and Sheo couldn't say he minded too much. And even though his shell plates seemed to never quite lie flat when he was near Quirrel, he was glad to be able to be near him at all.

Then one morning, this simple routine was shattered quicker than it had come about.

Sheo had been painting contently, The Nailsmith had been working his clay with his eyebrows furrowed, and Quirrel had his nose deep in a book he had only intended on flipping through for a brief moment. With the home so quiet, all three bugs clearly heard the tiny footsteps making their way towards the door, and when they all turned to look, they were greeted with The Knight.

"Ah! Welcome back, small friend!" Sheo said as he put down his paintbrush. "I thought it'd be a while longer before I saw you again."

The Knight excitedly made their way to Sheo, who picked them up and twirled them around in a tight hug. "What brings you back so soon?"

It was then Sheo noticed The Knight was holding something in their tiny hands. They pressed the said item directly to his face; it was a journal of some kind. When Sheo placed The Knight back down he examined what he'd just been given.

"Well? What'd they get you, big guy?" The Nailsmith called from the table. He'd been watching the interaction since it began.

Sheo's eyes widened as he read the journal, which actually turned out to be a letter addressed to him. He glanced at The Knight, half expecting to see them laughing or looking amused or making any gesture indicating that this was a prank or joke of some kind, but they did no such thing.

He didn't respond to The Nailsmith, instead, re-reading the short letter a few more times, his anxiety increasing each time he did.

"Uh... hello? Hallownest to Sheo?" The Nailsmith called again.

"It's a letter from my brother," disbelief laced Sheo's stunned voice.

"Hm," The Nailsmith hummed, expecting Sheo to continue. When he didn't, he spoke again. "Is this a good thing or...?"