From the Vast

Chapter 27: Mending

Sage wasn't sure what Anne meant by 'long hair', but with how busy the rest of the room had suddenly gotten, she was down to investigate.

It was filled with people she didn't recognize—the Braixen looking over the little ones–the Shinx, the Ralts, and the Riolu–was nice and very warm, which Sage couldn't guarantee about the latter three. The Stunky beside the door was also good to her, but looked more drowsy than anything, and the Grumpig... was there, too, off in the corner. Neither she nor Anne knew who that was, and the limited background knowledge about that entire species they both had made it clear that they didn't necessarily want to know.

Anne was old enough to recognize that thought as rather bigoted, especially in her current situation, but going against it could wait.

"~So, my idea was that I-I could wrap the shirt's torso around the top of your head, a-and have it hang back behind it! Kinda like long hair!~"

As enthusiastic as Anne's delivery was, her words did little to clear up the mental image in the other girl's head. No better way to demonstrate it than to just do what she had in mind and let Sage see the results for herself.

"~I can have long hair?~"

Sage's confusion took Anne aback, but the older girl clarified right after.

"~Well, I hope so! Oh, I mean like a wig, not like actual hair if that's—~"

"~Aaaahhhh!~"

Wigs were cool, though Sage never thought she'd be wearing one made from a shirt. Having a concrete idea of just what was happening made her pay much more attention to her older peer's actions, especially as she started cutting the shirt in half. It wasn't going well, not with her limited leverage and strength, but nothing they couldn't accomplish together.

"~Can I help, can I help?~"

As self-conscious as Anne would've been at that question coming from anyone else, having it be said by an excited child as opposed to a slightly condescending adult made all the difference in the world.

"~S-sure! Can you hold that other end and then pull on it?~"

With the Phantump's help, Anne's little craftswoman project went from 'just about impossible' to only 'difficult'. One bruised thigh pinned one end of the shirt to the mattress, Sage pulled on the other one, and her one good hand slowly cut through it just below where the sleeves joined the rest of the fabric. It wasn't easy—not with a knife so dull its only remaining use as a weapon was bludgeoning people—but it was going.

The fabric kindly tearing apart the rest of the way through once they were around halfway done helped, too.

Wrapping the cylinder of the world's most scuffed wig around the top of the Phantump's head wasn't hard, but that couldn't be said for letting her see the results of her labor. It took a few minutes and much more exhaustion than Anne expected for her to fish out the tiny, scratched pocket mirror out of the depths of her bag. Once she did, though, Sage could finally see her little gift—

And... have mixed opinions on it.

"~Ooooooo! I like it, it's so long! It looks kinda wrong, though.~"

The mish-mash of euphoria and complaints took Anne aback as Sage tried to see herself from every angle, but she couldn't hold it against the ghostie and how young she was. At the same time, it brought back memories of when she was that age, making her much more self-conscious about how she must've behaved under her grandma's watch. She'd never shouted at them or anything, but there were quite a few disappointed looks and words, especially when they started running around the place with Ember.