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Chapter Text

Finn hummed softly as he continued sweeping the cabin floor, the wind chimes making a lovely sound, swaying in the warm summer winds that raged outside. With all the windows open, dust and leaves constantly flew into the house, but he wouldn't mind constantly cleaning as long as his wife was comfortable .

He rested the broom handle on the ground for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze almost imperceptibly escaping to the sofa in the coolest corner of the cabin.

She was still exactly as he had left her.

Lying on her back, one leg bent in a somewhat awkward way, the other stretched out, as if not even her own body had reached a comfortable consensus. The thick book on flora and fauna rested open on her chest, marking some page in the middle. The cold towel, already beginning to lose the battle against the summer heat, was carefully positioned over the center of the current problem: her distended, round, and vibrant belly, exposed to the air with her t-shirt rolled up just below her breasts.

Finn smiled. It was a smile that was half silly, half tired, completely in love.

He resumed sweeping, but now the movement was slower, almost automatic. Each stroke of the broom was accompanied by thoughts he couldn't switch off, no matter how hard he tried. In just one month. A single month. After years of surviving a broken world, the curse of the crown, and difficult choices… they were going to have a baby.

He had faced worse things than giant monsters without flinching, but the idea of being responsible for something so small, so fragile, made his stomach churn strangely. A strangely good knot. A terrifyingly strange knot.

Finn glanced at her again. It still seemed surreal at times.

"You're staring at me again"

"No, I'm not," he replied too quickly. She raised an eyebrow “Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted, leaning on the broom. “It’s just… you look kind of cute when you’re angry.”

“I ’m not angry.” She paused. “I ’m … temperamentally aware .”

“Sure, sure,” Finn agreed, nodding seriously. “Completely different.”

She huffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying an involuntary smile. Finn counted that as a victory.

He carefully leaned the broom against the wall and approached the sofa with light steps, as if he were approaching a wild animal… which, given the circumstances, wasn't an entirely unfair comparison. He knelt beside her and rested his cheek against the side of her stomach.

It was hot. That was something he never quite got used to.

Finn smiled even before feeling anything, that wide, genuine smile that started in his eyes and seemed to cover half his face, which only widened further when he felt a small kick.

Huntress closed the book with a sigh and let it slide to the side of the sofa, observing the scene with an expression that mixed affection, exhaustion, and a heroic patience that was clearly nearing its end.

She reached out and began to stroke the top of Finn's head, her fingers gliding over the worn fabric of his hat.

“You’re so sweet,” she said, closing her eyes, her voice softer than it had been in the last few hours. “But I’m tired, hot… and extremely likely to kick you if you transfer any amount of body heat to me.”

The smile remained on his face, but now there was a slight, calculated panic in it. He moved away immediately, too quickly for someone trying to appear casual, almost stumbling backward before sitting down on the ground a respectable distance away.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “So…” he began, his voice lower, more careful, “What can I do to make you feel better?”

Huntress opened her eyes and immediately squinted, as if the question itself were offensive.

"You know very well"

Finn's expression changed instantly. The smile vanished, his shoulders straightened, and his still gentle gaze gained a firm, non-negotiable weight.

“Absolutely not,” he said, without raising his voice, but with a conviction that left no room for interpretation. “Absolutely not.”

Huntress frowned.

“No,” he repeated, now pointing his finger slightly at her, in a gesture that was not accusatory but definitely determined. “You are not going out to hunt. Not today, not tomorrow, not while that child is using you as a home.”

She let out an irritated grumble, turning her face away and pulling the cold towel a little higher up on her stomach, as if that would help to quell her bad mood.

"I'll go crazy if I eat another root vegetable stew," she murmured. "I can't stand vegetables anymore ."

Finn shrank back slightly, almost imperceptibly. That, he had to admit, was fair. He ran a hand through his hair under his hat, letting out a long sigh before continuing.

“Look… I know,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “I know it’s not ideal. And I know you hate it. But…”

The truth, which Finn didn't much like to face, was simple and uncomfortable: he had never been as good a hunter as she was. When the local rabbits had migrated to more distant regions, he simply hadn't been able to bring himself to go. Not with the idea of leaving her alone for hours, maybe a whole day.

So he adapted.

Mushrooms rich in protein. Hardy root vegetables. Legumes that he swore were "nutritious enough."

It worked. But it didn't please his partner at all, whose diet had always been mostly carnivorous.

"I 'm not asking to face a bear" Huntress She continued, now looking at him again, her eyes half-closed, "Just go out, walk a bit, hunt for something decent. I can do it."

“No,” Finn said again, without hesitation. 

“Finn...”

“You’re pregnant,” he interrupted, more firmly now. “You get tired faster. Your balance is different, your reflexes…”

"I still know how to use a bow," she retorted.

"I know. But that doesn't change anything."

She was silent for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she crossed her arms.

"I wouldn't need to go if you could just shoot down any old moose."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. The mental image of a moose—large, fast, capable of turning a human into a traumatic memory—passed through his head in decidedly unappealing detail.

" You talk as if it were simple," he said cautiously.

“ For me it’s simple,” Huntress replied, with a shrug. “It always has been.”

Finn sighed, rubbing his face with both hands.

“I am not you,” he said finally, his voice lower. “And I’m not going to pretend to be.”

Finn remained silent for a few seconds longer than usual, staring at the cabin floor as if it might offer some alternative answer. Then he sighed. A long, defeated sigh that seemed to come straight from the depths of his chest.

"Okay," he finally said. "Okay."

Huntress raised an eyebrow, suspiciously.

"OK?"

“I’ll go with you,” Finn continued, looking up . “We’re only going as far as the perimeter we’ve already marked out. No going any further. And Jake’s coming too.”

Her face lit up as if someone had lit a bonfire from within.

"Seriously?" she asked, already supporting herself on her arms to sit up.

“Seriously,” he confirmed, though his expression made it clear that the decision had cost him every ounce of willpower he possessed.

“Great!” she said, far too excited for someone who had been complaining of tiredness seconds before. “I’ll go get my equipment.”

She rose from the sofa with a little effort, one hand automatically going to her stomach while the other rested on the backrest before standing and walking to the bedroom.

Finn watched as she disappeared through the door.

He took a deep breath. A very deep breath. Then he pinched his nose with his fingers, closing his eyes for a moment.

"She's going to be my downfall," he muttered to himself.

Because in that entire world, Finn only had one real weakness. A weakness with overly attentive green eyes and impossible-to-ignore red hair…

And worst of all: she knew it perfectly well.

~~

The tall trees blocked much of the sunlight, creating a constant play of shadows that moved with the swaying of the leaves. The breeze there was cooler, carrying the damp scent of earth, moss, and something undefined that Finn preferred not to try to identify.

He was walking behind Huntress . Literally inches away.

Every muscle in Finn's body was tense, as if he were prepared to react to anything: a strange sound, a branch breaking, a simple sneeze out of turn. With each step she took, he slightly extended his arms, ready to catch her if she tripped on a root, slipped on damp leaves, or simply decided to test gravity.

Huntress , on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease.

She walked carefully, yes, but with the familiarity of someone who knew that terrain like the back of his hand. Dodged roots, ducked under low branches, and sometimes stopped to observe marks on the ground or the distant movement among the trees.

She stopped walking. Finn almost bumped into her.

“Darling” she said, turning to face him, “If you keep going like this, I’m going to trip because you’re behind me, not despite it.”

"I'm just making sure," he replied, too seriously for someone who was being gently reprimanded.

"Making sure of what?"

"That you don't fall"

She sighed, but smiled. "I'm not made of glass."

"I know"

"So why are you acting like I am?"

"Because I love you"

She blinked. Then she rolled her eyes.

"That was low."

Finn let out a small smile. The tension in his shoulders eased just a little, enough for him to take a step forward and close the distance between them , this time on purpose, and not out of pure bodyguard instinct.

He leaned down and lightly kissed the top of Huntress 's head .

“I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice low, almost lost in the rustling of the leaves. “And you drive me crazy with worry sometimes.”

Huntress smiled immediately, tilting her head slightly against his chest. Her hands moved up Finn's arms, sliding slowly, feeling the tension still there beneath the rigid muscles.

"It's the most fun I've got in the world," she replied, with a satisfied tone.

Finn let out a low laugh, leaning in a little closer, ready to kiss her for real now.

" Woof!" Jake's short bark cut through the moment like an arrow.

Finn stopped mid-movement, still too close, his nose almost touching hers.

Huntress turned around immediately.

“That's it!” she said, her mood shifting instantly, her attention now completely focused. “Good job , Jake.”

She approached Jake with careful steps. The dog stood beside a deep mark in the soft forest floor, its muzzle down, its body slightly tense.

“What did you find there, huh?” Huntress continued, her voice softer now, praising as she leaned in just enough to see better, without actually bending down.

Finn strode up to her side in two long strides, his eyes automatically following her gaze.

The footprint was large. Too deep for something small. The edges were still relatively defined, which meant it wasn't ancient.

Huntress stared at the mark for a few seconds, her green eyes silently analyzing it. She seemed to want to crouch down further, study it better … but she didn't. She simply shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Let’s go,” she said simply. “We have a dinner to hunt.”

Finn swallowed hard, nodding.

"Right"

Jake wagged his tail, pleased with the recognition, and moved forward a little, alert. Finn repositioned himself right behind Huntress , not as close as before, but close enough to act quickly.

They continued on in silence.

Jake went ahead. Finn watched the dog's every move with heightened attention, his heart pounding at a pace that didn't match the apparent tranquility of the forest at all.

The path narrowed slightly, the vegetation becoming denser. The dog stood motionless beside a thick bush, its body low, its tail still wagging, but without a single bark or growl.

Huntress stopped immediately.

Without saying a word, she crouched down beside Jake, her hand automatically going to his neck for a brief, firm caress, a silent thank you.

Carefully, Huntress extended her free hand and pushed the bush aside, creating enough space to see beyond.

Finn took two steps and stopped.

A few meters away, in a small, well-protected clearing, a red deer grazed calmly. Its fur had a warm, almost golden hue under the filtered sunlight, and its still large and imposing antlers stood upright like a natural crown. The animal seemed completely oblivious to their presence, focused only on the surrounding vegetation.

Huntress was already in motion. Her hand went straight to her back, pulling the bow as if it were a natural extension of herself. Then, almost in the same movement, she adjusted an arrow, her fingers firm and sure. The tip was already aimed at the deer before Finn even realized she had positioned herself correctly.

He swallowed hard. His gaze alternated between the rope being tightened, the muscles in her arm contracting with precision, and the animal in front of him, completely defenseless in that fraction of a second.

The arrow cut through the air with a quick, almost imperceptible whistle, and struck the deer in the side of the skull with a dull, dry thud. The impact was too precise to allow for any reaction. The animal staggered for a fraction of a second, its legs giving way before its body even understood what had happened.

Then it plummeted.

Finn released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Huntress lowered her bow slowly, her shoulders relaxing. Jake moved from his position, his tail now wagging faster, and barked a few times as he ran and began sniffing the now-dead animal.

“See?” she said calmly, confidently. “You have nothing to worry about, dork.”

"Yes, I think you 're right," he replied.

Huntress smiled slightly, satisfied.

Finn stood and took a step forward, ready to approach the animal, when he stopped suddenly. He turned back to her. Huntress was still crouched, her bow resting on the ground beside her, her posture relaxed now that the tension had passed.

She looked up at him. For a moment, the smile that appeared was different. Smaller. Almost shy. A strange contrast to the relentless precision of just seconds before.

She slowly extended her arms toward him.

"Will you help me get up?" She asked, in a humble tone.

Finn's heart gave a little jolt.

He approached immediately, holding her forearms with excessive care, as if he were dealing with something far more fragile than it actually was. He helped her to stand up slowly, following each shift in weight, attentive to any sign of discomfort.

"Easy," he murmured.

Huntress leaned on him for a second longer than necessary.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Jake, pleased with his own contribution, ran in short circles around them, barking happily now that the job was done.

~~

The smell of hot food filled the air. The soft light of dusk streamed through the windows, reflecting off the simple utensils on the table.

Finn sat propped up on his elbow, silently watching as Huntress practically devoured her dinner.

Juicy meat, still steaming. Cooked vegetables. Thick mashed potatoes. Rice.

Each bite felt like a small personal victory, and Finn couldn't decide whether he was more relieved or more amused by the scene. The day's exhaustion no longer mattered. Seeing that satisfied expression made it all worthwhile.

Huntress stopped suddenly, the fork still in the air.

"What?" She asked, chewing.

"Nothing," he said too quickly.

She narrowed her eyes.

Finn smiled and pointed with his fork to her plate.

"Just... don't forget that you need to eat your vegetables too."

Huntress looked at the plate.

The vegetables were practically untouched, there since the beginning, ignored with impressive efficiency. She made an exaggerated face, sticking her tongue out in silent protest.

Finn couldn't hold it in. He laughed loudly, the sound filling the cabin, warm and unrestrained, even making Jake raise his head in curiosity. Huntress tried to keep a straight face for a split second before laughing too, shaking her head.

"I only take care of you," Finn replied, still laughing.

She picked up a piece of vegetable with evident reluctance, stared at Finn, and ate it as if she were making a sacrifice.

Chapter Text

Finn could say, with absolute certainty, that there was nothing in the world he loved more than Huntress.

From their first encounter in the woods, through their secret meetings, the arguments that never lasted long enough, the long-awaited union that seemed impossible in a world like that. He revered her. He loved her completely, raw, without missing parts. If he were to make a comparison, he could even say that he loved her as much as he loved Jake.

But it was different.

And yet, for a long time, Finn believed that was the limit. That there was no room within him to love more than that. That the heart had a finite capacity, like everything else in the world: land, food, hope.

He was wrong.

Because then she gave him a son.

Finn never imagined it was possible to feel his heart expand like that. Not gradually, but all at once, as if something inside him had simply ruptured to make way for something bigger. A quadrillion times bigger, if it were possible to measure.

He still remembered her perfectly, sweaty, her hair completely out of order, her body exhausted in a way he had never seen before. Deep bags under her green eyes. And yet… A proud, tired, utterly genuine smile as she held Jay in her arms for the first time. Too small. Too warm. Too perfect.

If he had revered her before, now he practically idolized her.

He would tread on the ground she walked on. He would kiss the dust of her footsteps if necessary. Because she had given him the best gift he could ever ask for, something he didn't even know he needed until he held it in his arms.

Jay was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Better than any harvest, better than any successful sale of artifacts, even better than his own life.

“Nine months.” That was the first thing she said when she looked at the newborn in her arms, her voice hoarse, gazing at the baby with a perfect mixture of love and indignation. “Nine months kicking me from the inside, stealing my sleep, my balance, my patience… only to come out a blatant copy of you.”

Finn bit his lip to keep from laughing too loudly.

Jay had blond hair. A pointed nose. Even his vague, curious expression seemed too familiar to be a coincidence. And ironically, despite the clear complaints, Finn couldn't ignore how she stroked Jay's soft, golden hair with her thumb, in an automatic, almost unconscious gesture, or kissed his small, pointed nose.

At first, everything had been desperate.

Terrifying in a way that no gang, no curse, no night spent outdoors with only the voices in his own head could compare. Because now the danger didn't come from outside. It fit in their arms. He breathed too fast. He cried for reasons they couldn't decipher.

Two first-time parents. Inexperienced. Trying to feign some kind of confidence while, inside, they were absolutely terrified.

Everything seemed too fragile.

The right way to hold it. The correct sleeping position. The sound of breathing during the early morning hours. Every sneeze became an event. Every silence, a threat. They looked at each other constantly, exchanging whispered questions in the dark.

"Is this normal?" "Has he always breathed like this?" "Is it too hot? Too cold?" "Is he crying differently?"

He laughed now, remembering it, but at the time it had been anything but funny.

Like the night Huntress was breastfeeding, leaning against the headboard, her body still too tired to get truly comfortable. Finn was sitting beside her, watching the baby's every tiny movement as if he were on guard.

Then Jay coughed.

Finn felt his heart stop.

"He's choking," he said, his voice rising a half tone too high.

Huntress instantly turned deathly pale, and then the two of them panicked.

It was silent, completely disorganized chaos. Finn stood up too quickly, almost knocking everything over. Huntress tried to adjust the baby, her arm trembling, her eyes wide.

"What do we do?!"

"I don't know!"

Jay coughed again. And then he stopped. Then he resumed eating as if absolutely nothing had happened.

As if the two adults in front of him weren't on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Finn remembered standing there, frozen, waiting for the next disaster that never came. Huntress started laughing first. A nervous, trembling laugh that quickly turned into something more relaxed, more relieved. Finn laughed soon after, the kind of laugh that came with the urge to cry.

It was terrifying.

But it was also comforting in a strange way. Sometimes, Finn wondered if this wasn't paradise.

Not a perfect, calm, or safe place. But a place where the heart was so full that there was no room left for anything else.

The thought had almost finished forming when it was abruptly cut off.

Finn turned his head in time to see Jay sprinting down the hallway, a low chuckle escaping and echoing off the cabin walls.

His blond hair was still wet, sticking to his forehead. His feet tapped awkwardly on the wooden floor. And, in the most literal way possible… He was completely naked.

Finn's eyes widened.

"Jay!"

Huntress appeared right behind him seconds later, as if she had been spat out by the runner himself.

A blue towel hung from one arm, already half-wrung and heavy with water. Her clothes were partially wet, her shirt clinging to her shoulders and chest, her hair still damp. There were clear splash marks on the fabric and a perfectly clear expression of someone who had just lost badly in a battle against a one-year-old child.

“Come back here, you wild weasel!” she said, trying to maintain authority in her voice, but failing miserably as she let out a giggle at the sight of her son. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Jay let out a loud, open laugh, completely satisfied with himself, and ran even faster, his feet slipping slightly on the wooden floor.

Finn started laughing before he even realized it. Huntress tried to make a quick attack, narrowly missed and almost slipped, letting out a frustrated groan as Jay dodged with the questionable, yet effective, skill of someone who still didn't quite understand their own body.

"You're too fast for someone who can barely speak!" she complained, breathless.

Jay responded with another triumphant laugh.

Finn wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, took a deep breath, and decided that had been enough action for one night.

“Okay,” he said, standing up. “The joke’s over.”

Finn bent down and held him firmly from behind, under his arms, lifting him into the air in one swift motion. Jay let out a surprised little yelp that turned into laughter almost instantly, his legs kicking in the air, his arms moving in a clumsy way.

“Noooooo,” Jay complained, laughing.

"Time to get dressed and go to bed," Finn said, too serious for someone smiling like that.

Jay tried to protest, but Huntress arrived soon after, wrapping the small body in the blue towel in a practiced movement, pulling the fabric around him like an improvised cocoon.

“Not…tied,” Jay grumbled, his voice still a bit muffled, pouting.

Finn raised an eyebrow. "If you behave, we'll read you a story," he said, pointing slightly. 

Jay hesitated for a second before his body gradually relaxed. His little legs stopped kicking. He settled more comfortably in his father's arms, turning and resting his warm head on Finn's shoulder, still sniffling softly. One of his hands automatically went up to play with his hat, tugging at the brim with distracted curiosity.

Huntress watched the scene for a moment, her chest rising and falling slowly as a smile appeared unbidden.

"Who did he take after to be so stubborn?"

Finn chuckled softly, tilting his head until his forehead lightly touched hers as he moved closer.

"Honestly?" he said. "I have a bet, but you might not like the answer."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile only widened. Finn was silent for a second, watching Jay, who was already half asleep.

"Do you think the next one will be as adventurous?"

Huntress sighed. A hand automatically slid down to her slightly swollen belly, her fingers spread apart.

“I hope not,” She replied sincerely. “I don’t know if I can keep my pride when I have to chase two naked children around the house.”

Finn chuckled softly, kissing her forehead before leading Jay down the hall, one hand firmly supporting the tiny body still wrapped in the towel, the other holding him close to his chest. The baby was already heavier than Finn remembered when he first started walking, but the weight was comfortable, familiar.

Jay's room was small, warmed by the soft light of a low lamp. The walls were covered with simple hand-painted designs: crooked trees, uneven stars, and a few animals that had clearly been made more out of affection than artistic talent.

He supported Jay while he was sitting on the bed and opened the drawer with a practiced movement.

"Arms up," he said.

Jay obeyed promptly, and Finn put on the white bear onesie, slipping the sleeves through his small hands, adjusting the fluffy fabric over his warm body. The bear printed on the chest had a slightly crooked ear from so much use. Jay pointed at it.

“Beeear,” he murmured, proud of his own pronunciation.

"That's right," Finn smiled. "Your bear friend."

He pulled the blanket up to the boy's waist, adjusted the pillow, and ran his hand through his blond hair, which was still slightly damp.

That's when Huntress appeared at the door. Now dry, she was wearing a simple, light-colored pajama top, the lightweight fabric falling loosely over her body. Her hair was loose too, still a little messy, but in a comfortable way. She leaned against the doorframe for a moment before entering.

"Which story do you want today?" She asked, walking over to the low shelf full of books.

“Bears!” he replied immediately. Raising his hands and frowning as she slowly lifted three fingers, proudly showing them to his mother, “Three bears!”

Huntress chuckled softly and pulled out the small, worn book, its edges rounded by time and the small hands that had touched it dozens of times. She walked to the bed and sat down opposite Finn, placing Jay comfortably between them.

"Ready?" she asked.

Jay nodded, his eyes already attentive.

Huntress opened the book and began to read. Jay followed each page with such fascination that it was hard to tell that this was the millionth time he had heard that story, his eyes going from the colorful and slightly faded drawings, to her face, then to Finn, then back to the paper. When the bears appeared, Finn would automatically chime in, deepening his voice to make each one sound slightly different. Jay chuckled softly more than once, bringing his hand to his mouth.

The story continued to the end, Huntress's voice gradually fading, becoming softer, slower, giving way to several yawns from her son. When he reached the last page, Jay stared at the final illustration: the three bears standing with the golden-haired girl in the center of their new family.

He twisted the fabric of his pajamas between his small fingers, his eyebrows furrowing slowly, as if something was really taking up too much space inside his little head.

Finn realized it immediately.

"Hey," he whispered, "What's up, champ?"

Jay remained silent for a few more seconds, still staring at the illustration. His little fingers continued twisting the soft fabric of his pajamas, now with less force, as if he were gathering courage for something very important. He slowly raised his gaze, first to Huntress, then to Finn. His large eyes, still heavy with sleep, but full of a seriousness that didn't match his age at all.

“Dad…” he called, her small, drawling voice, “love Jay?”

Finn felt his heart skip a beat, as if the question had been a direct, gentle blow at the same time.

“Of course I love you,” he replied without hesitation, his voice low, firm, almost reverent. He reached for the fluffy hood of his overalls and smoothed down a few blond strands that insisted on escaping, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary in that caress. Jay instinctively tilted his head toward his touch. “I love you more than anything,” Finn added.

Huntress watched in silence, her chest rising slowly. Finn took a deep breath before continuing, choosing his words as if they were too fragile to be dropped.

"Mom and Dad have something important to tell you," he said. "Remember we told you that you're going to have a little brother?"

Huntress nodded, running her hand over the top of Jay's head, her thumb tracing slow circles "He's still growing in here," she added softly.

Jay blinked a few times, absorbing the information. His gaze drifted down to her stomach for a second, then back to Finn.

"Baby," he repeated, testing the word.

"That's it," Finn confirmed. "A baby."

Jay fell silent again. His little fingers gripped his pajamas once more, this time more tightly. He swallowed hard, his eyes widening even further.

"Dad and Mom..." He called again, "Love... less Jay?"

The question fell into the room like something too heavy for such a small space.

Finn was caught completely off guard. Huntress too. They both moved almost simultaneously, leaning closer to their son, as if mere proximity could shield that question from even existing.

“No, no, no, no, my love,” Huntress replied first, her voice firm but soft. “Never.” She moved closer, resting her cheek lightly on the top of Jay’s head. “Never, never ever,” she added. “We will love you forever and ever.”

Finn wrapped his real arm around them both, gently pulling them against his chest.

“A little brother doesn’t make us love less,” he said. “It just makes us have more love to share.” Jay watched the two with absolute attention, as if searching for any sign of a lie. “One more to love,” Finn repeated slowly, to make sure he understood. “Not less for you.”

Jay seemed to relax a little. His small shoulders slumped. He took a deep breath.

Finn smiled.

“And you know what else?” he continued. “You’re going to be a big brother.”

"Big?" he asked, confused.

Finn chuckled softly.

"Big brother. That means it will be your job to help, protect, and care for your little brother."

Jay looked at his father with extreme seriousness, as if this were a mission too important for someone his size. He thought for a few long seconds, his gaze going from Finn to Huntress and back again.

"I... take care of brother," he said, nodding as if the matter were already settled.

Finn's smile widened immediately.

Jay remained silent for a while longer. Then he tilted his head, thoughtful.

“What if…” he began, choosing each word carefully, “girl?”

Finn blinked, surprised by the question. Huntress smiled first, a slow, warm smile.

"Then you'll take care of your little sister," she replied.

Finn nodded. “And love her the same way,” he added. “Protect her the same way”

Jay considered the answer. Then he gave a small, sleepy smile.

"Jay cares for brother," he murmured, yawning immediately afterward.

He turned slowly, his small body instinctively seeking more warmth. He snuggled against Huntress with a satisfied sigh, his little arms stretching around her waist, unable to close completely. His face ended up buried right in the middle of her stomach.

"Bonnie..." he murmured softly, the word trailing off, already half lost in sleep.

Huntress let out a low, almost silent laugh, her chest vibrating slightly so as not to wake him. Her hand moved up and began to stroke her son's back in a slow, steady rhythm, feeling his little body relax little by little. Jay's breathing became shallower, more spaced out, until it stabilized in that smooth and reliable pattern that only deep sleep brings.

She waited a few more seconds, just to be sure.

Even so, his arms remained firmly gripped, as if he were afraid she might disappear in the middle of the night. Huntress carefully looked up and found Finn watching the scene, standing beside the bed, with that expression that mixed love, surrender, and a slight " oh, my heart ."

She raised an eyebrow and made an almost guilty face.

"I think... I'll have to sleep here tonight. I've been taken hostage."

“Are you sure?” he asked in a low voice. “Sleeping here means that…” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “…I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Huntress looked at Jay and sighed, carefully adjusting herself to lie more comfortably on the small bed.

“I do,” she replied calmly. “I want to enjoy a night with my two babies.”

The phrase hit Finn right on the mark. He smiled, slowly, sincerely, but then made a dramatic sound, putting his hand to his chest.

“Oh,” he said, in a feigned tone of hurt, “I clearly remember when you used to say I was your baby.”

Huntress turned her face slowly toward him, her eyes narrowed in an amused expression, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“You were,” she replied. “But now you’ve become…” she paused, assessing him from head to toe, “…more of a sexy lumberjack type.”

Finn put his hand to his mouth in exaggerated shock. "Hey!" he whispered, scandalized. "Language woman! There are children present!"

Huntress bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. The sound escaped anyway, muffled, and Finn ended up laughing along, his shoulders finally relaxing.

He approached the bed carefully, first leaning down to give Jay a soft kiss on the forehead, lingering a second longer than necessary. Then, he turned to Huntress and kissed her on the lips.

"Good night," he murmured against her mouth.

"Good night," she replied, her voice low and warm.

Finn silently turned away and left the room, closing the door with extreme care so as not to disturb the three things he loved most in the world.

Chapter Text

Huntress was a hunter.

She was used to adversity and complications. Hunger that tightened her stomach until it turned into pain. Cold that gnawed at her bones during the night. Wounds that burned, became infected, and yet had to be ignored because survival came before any comfort. All of this was familiar territory, almost known to her.

Still… none of that had really prepared her for the pain of giving birth.

Not just the physical pain, but the raw, terrifying emotional pain. At Jay's birth, she was absolutely certain she was going to die.

At Bonnie's , she already knew what to expect. She knew how to recognize the progression of pain. Her body was no longer so inexperienced; it already knew that cruel and miraculous path at the same time.

The two pregnancies had been incredibly similar. The same symptoms at the same times.

So she didn't expect the third one to be any different.

That's why panic set in so quickly when the contractions started... too early.

The eighth month wasn't over yet when the pain first appeared. Not intense, but unmistakable. An internal tightness that made her body automatically stiffen, her breath catching for a second. Finn noticed immediately. This time, they both truly panicked.

They prepared everything. The cabin was rearranged. The clothes were sorted. The water was heated. Finn practically ran around in circles, repeating tasks that had already been done twice. Jay and Bonnie stood strangely quiet, watching the adults with that uncomfortable attention.

And then… nothing happened.

The contractions simply stopped.

They returned days later. Then they disappeared again. A visit to the nearest village, long conversations with older women, brought answers; to a certain extent, it was normal.

That should have reassured her.

It didn't reassure me.

Huntress didn't understand why her own body had decided to betray her this time. She felt stupid for panicking. Fragile for not being able to control her own reaction. Out of her mind whenever a false contraction hit her out of nowhere, making the air leave her lungs as if someone had punched her in the stomach from the inside.

The worst part wasn't the pain.

That was the reaction from those around them.

Finn dropped absolutely everything the instant he realized what was happening. Jay appeared first, eyes wide, asking if she was okay. Bonnie followed closely behind, trying to imitate him, offering her a glass of water. Within minutes, the three of them were by her side, worried.

She hated it.

Because of the feeling of being the center of a fear that perhaps wasn't even necessary. Often, Huntress would clench her teeth, take a deep breath, and say that everything was alright. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes her body would betray her again, and she would bend slightly, her hand going to her stomach on its own while her face lost its color.

Things got... more complicated when she finally reached her ninth month.

Up until then, Huntress had relied almost entirely on her own experience. She knew how to distinguish a real contraction from a false one. Up until then, she had done well. She had breathed, counted the time, waited for it to pass. She had been right every time.

And she hoped, with all her heart, that she was right that night too.

The pain returned like a deeper wave, making her stomach clench from the inside out. Huntress groaned softly and shifted in bed, her fingers clenching the sheet as her lower back felt like it was on fire, a hot, persistent pain. It had started about an hour earlier. Small, spaced-out pains. Exactly like the fake ones. Exactly like all the other times.

When the wave finally passed, she exhaled slowly, as if she had forgotten to breathe. Her whole body felt too heavy, too hot. She leaned slightly toward the edge of the bed and wet the towel again in the bucket beside her; the water was now only room temperature, far from the comforting coolness of before. Still, she wrung it out and placed it back on her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment.

Her muscles ached, as if after a hunt that had gone too long, her lungs burning slightly with each deeper breath, her whole body hot, strange, as if it no longer belonged entirely to her.

She opened her eyes and looked towards the window. The rain continued to fall outside, beating against the glass and the roof with an almost hypnotic sound. From the angle where she laid, Huntress could see practically nothing but distorted shadows and the faint reflection of light inside the room.

Huntress's head turned slowly at the soft sound of the door opening.

First, just a crack. Then, a small familiar face appeared in the gap. Jay, already in his pajamas, his hair a little messy, held the doorknob with excessive care. His gaze softened immediately when he saw her awake.

"Mom..." he murmured.

The door opened a little wider, revealing Bonnie right behind him, half-hidden, holding the hem of her brother's t-shirt with both hands. Her large eyes cautiously surveyed the room.

“Sorry,” Jay said quickly, before Huntress could even speak. “Dad told us not to bother you… but…” he hesitated, biting his lip. “We were scared of the thunder.”

The smile that appeared on Huntress's face was automatic. Still, something inside her tightened.

She was too hot. Coughing occasionally. Flu. She knew it. And the flu could be contagious. Part of her wanted to tell them to go back, to keep their distance. Before she could decide, a thunderclap ripped through the sky with a closer rumble, making the walls vibrate slightly.

Bonnie let out a small, startled sound, then quickly crossed the room, lifted the blanket, and snuggled underneath, nestling against her mother's body as if it were the safest place in the world.

“Bonnie…” Huntress began, but sighed before finishing. She leaned more firmly against the headboard, carefully adjusting her body, and extended a free arm. “Jay… come here too.”

Jay didn't need to hear it twice. He ran to the bed, slipped under the covers, and joined his sister, the two of them forming little mounds that shifted until they found a comfortable position. Huntress ran her hand over the blanket, gently patting each of them, feeling their small bodies gradually calm down.

“Mom…” Bonnie said softly, after a few seconds, “Can you tell a story?”

Huntress swallowed hard, a cough escaping before she could stop it, followed by a slight but bothersome cough. Her throat burned.

"I..." she took a deep breath, "I don't think I'm feeling very good about this today, my love."

Bonnie made a small, disappointed "ah," but didn't move away. She just snuggled closer, resting her head against her mother's side.

Huntress closed her eyes for a moment, her hand still resting on both of them, torn between exhaustion, worry… and that familiar warmth that, despite everything, made the pain a little more bearable.

Jay slowly poked his head out from under the covers.

"Would you feel better if we told you a story?"

Huntress opened one eye, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe," she replied with a half-smile. "It depends a lot on the quality of this story."

Bonnie lifted her head almost instantly.

"We know how to tell good stories!" She asserted, with absolute conviction.

“Once upon a time,” Jay began, “there was a very big wolf…”

“A little wolf. And he was wearing a hat,” Bonnie interrupted.

Huntress bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay…” Jay agreed, after thinking for a second. “A little wolf with a hat. And he lived in a forest where it rained a lot.”

"And there was thunder!" Bonnie added excitedly.

“And he didn’t like thunder,” Jay continued, “so he found a huntress who knew how to fight thunder.”

Huntress closed her eyes, the corner of her mouth trembling in a restrained smile. For a few minutes, the discomfort seemed distant.

The downstairs door slammed shut. The three of them froze for half a second.

Then, familiar footsteps began to climb the stairs, firm and quick. The sound brought a different kind of immediate comfort. Huntress opened her eyes; Bonnie was already stirring.

“Daddy!” Bonnie yelled, untangling herself from the covers and running before Huntress could even warn her. Finn appeared in the doorway just as Bonnie threw herself against his leg, hugging it with a force disproportionate to someone so small.

Finn automatically bent down, running his hand through her hair, but his gaze immediately went up to Jay, who was still in bed.

"I told you not to bother your mother."

Jay instinctively shrank back, moving closer to Huntress.

"Sorry…"

Huntress reached out and stroked her son's hair.

"Everything's fine. They just kept me entertained."

Finn sighed, his expression softening slightly. He then looked at her with renewed attention.

"I found the herb you mentioned. I'm already brewing some tea with it."

She nodded, relieved.

Finn then nodded towards the children.

"Now, both of you, it's time for bed, for real this time"

Jay slid out of bed, still somewhat reluctantly, and Bonnie finally let go of her father's leg. The two walked out of the room, glancing back one last time.

"Goodnight, Mom," Jay and Bonnie said.

"Good night you two," Huntress replied, her voice soft.

When the door closed, Finn approached the bed, the weariness finally visible on his shoulders. He knelt beside her and placed his hand on Huntress's forehead.

"You're still hot..." he murmured more to himself than to her.

Without waiting for a reply, he took the cloth from the bucket beside the bed, dipped it back into the water, and wrung it out carefully before slowly wiping her forehead, down to her temples.

“I’ll get your tea,” he said finally, “and change this water for some…that’s less hot. I’ll be right back.”

She mumbled something that might have been an "okay," but he was already standing, grabbing the bucket with his mechanical hand and leaving the room with quick steps.

Huntress groaned softly as another pain came, deeper this time. Her fingers clenched into the sheet, her eyes squeezed shut as she breathed deeply. When it finally passed, she slowly opened her eyes, her chest rising and falling with effort. She looked at her own belly and ran her hand along its side, in a mixture of protection and supplication.

"Don't even think about it," she murmured, her voice low and tired. "Not today."

She heard Finn's footsteps climbing the stairs again. He entered the room holding the bucket in one robotic hand and a steaming mug in the other.

"Here," he said, approaching. "Slowly."

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his metal arm behind her, helping her to stand up carefully. Huntress leaned on him without resisting this time, letting her weight fall partially onto her husband's body.

"It's hot," he warned, bringing the mug to her lips. "Just a sip first."

She obeyed, drinking carefully. The warm liquid went down her throat like an immediate comfort, eliciting a low sigh.

"Is this tea really safe for the baby?"

Huntress didn't open her eyes immediately. She just leaned a little closer to him, her forehead lightly touching Finn's chest.

"Generally, yes, in some cases it can help stimulate labor, but I don't think any additional stimulation is needed." She chuckled softly in derision.

Finn's body stiffened instantly. It wasn't subtle. The arm around her tensed, his muscles locking as if someone had pulled an invisible thread.

"What do you mean by that?"

Huntress bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting down to the mug in her hands. Internally, she cursed herself. She knew that sentence had been a mistake.

"Maybe..." she finally said softly, "Maybe I had some contractions."

"Maybe?"

“Not like those, ” she hastened to add, “I mean… not really. They were spaced out. Irregular. Just like the others.”

"The fake ones?" he asked, still tense.

“Exactly,” she nodded quickly. “Just my body acting up again.”

"And how can you be so sure of that?" Finn asked, his voice too low to be calm.

Huntress opened her mouth to reply. Closed it again.

The lack of response spoke louder than any words.

Finn let out a heavy sigh. He carefully moved away, helping her to lean back more comfortably on the bed before standing up.

"I'll heat some water just to be sure." He took a step towards the door.

Before he could take a second step, Huntress reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't worry about it, it won't happen today."

"Love…"

“Not today,” she repeated, pulling him back slightly. “Please. I’m fine. Tired, feverish, uncomfortable… but I know when it really starts.”

Finn looked at her, torn between the trust he had always had in her and the fear that had been building up in his chest all night.

"You said that last time too," he murmured.

“And I was right,” she retorted, a wisp of tired humor trying to emerge.

She slowly released his wrist and leaned back against the pillows.

Finn remained still for a few more seconds. Then he sat back down on the edge of the bed with a defeated sigh.

"I hate it when you talk like it's simple," he said.

"I hate it when you panic prematurely," she replied, with a tired half-smile.

He huffed, despite everything, and gently ran his hand through her hair again.

"You promised you would let me know."

“I promise,” she said, closing her eyes again, “If it’s true… you’ll be the first to know.”

Finn stood there for a few more seconds, then got up to turn off the smaller lamp, leaving only a dim light that wouldn't plunge the room into complete darkness.

He took off his boots, carefully placed them beside the wall, and settled himself on the bed. Huntress reacted immediately, her body seeking his almost instinctively, and snuggled against Finn's chest, her forehead fitting just below his chin. It was too warm for his liking, but he pulled the blanket up a little more to wrap her better nonetheless, his hand sliding down her back in an automatic gesture.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, taking a deep breath.

"Just so you know," he said after a few seconds, "if I wake up in the middle of the night with your water broken and we have to run like we did the last two times... I will never, ever let you hear the end of it."

Huntress let out a low, muffled laugh against his chest.

Finn continued making slow circles on her back until he felt her breathing become deeper, more regular. It wasn't long before his own body gave way too, exhaustion finally overcoming his constant vigilance.

The storm outside gradually subsided. The rain became a constant, distant sound, almost a lullaby.

They fell asleep.

For a few hours, at least.

Huntress woke up suddenly, her whole body tense. The pain in her back was low, deep, nauseating. A continuous, crushing pressure that made her gasp for air for a second.

She automatically brought her hand to her lower back, her fingers digging into her own body as she breathed shallowly, trying not to make a sound.

It only took her a second of sobriety to notice the warm dampness on her legs. She didn't need to lift the covers. She didn't need to check. She already knew the answer to that perfectly well.

"Damn it..." She murmured, with a defeated sigh, half laughter, half exhaustion.

Chapter Text

"So you pull the skin like this... and it should come off easily enough so it's not wasted... Jay? Jay, are you paying attention?"

Jay blinked a few times and looked back into his mother's eyes. Huntress was crouched in front of him, holding the rabbit by its hind legs with practical firmness, its lifeless body hanging strangely lightly.

"Yeah i am" he said too quickly, nodding.

The late afternoon sun streamed through the treetops surrounding the garden, bathing everything in a soft, gilded light. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly trodden grass, damp earth, and wildflowers that grew somewhat haphazardly near the fence. Dragonflies darted swiftly through the air, reflecting flashes of blue and green as they scurried to and from the nearby woods.

Jay sat on the grass with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. It was rare, very rare, to have his mother all to himself since his younger brother was born. Between Bonnie and Josh, Jay was usually left a little more to the side, he understood, he was the oldest after all. Huntress still hugged him, still kissed him before bed, but those whole moments… just the two of them… had become scarce.

Huntress finished loosening the animal's skin a little more, demonstrating calmly, pulling carefully so as not to tear it, and then glanced sideways at her son.

"Your head is elsewhere" She commented, without harshness. 

Jay shrugged slightly. He absentmindedly kicked the grass with the tip of his boot.

"I was thinking..."

Huntress let go of the rabbit for a moment, resting it on a cloth spread out on the grass. She wiped her hands on her trousers and turned completely to face him, now at the same level.

"In what?"

"Why... why is Josh just like you... but I'm not? And Bonnie isn't either?"

Huntress sighed slowly, tilting her head and observing her son's face intently: his bright eyes, his hair too light to be hers, his pointed nose that gave Finn away from afar.

“Ah… if I knew the exact answer to that, a lot of things in my life would be easier,” she said with a half-smile. “But I think it’s adorable. Your nose, for example…” She extended her finger and gave a light boop to the tip of his nose.

"Hey!" Jay complained, laughing despite himself, bringing his hand to his face.

“And those cheeks,” Huntress added, taking advantage of the distraction to gently pinch the sides of his face between her fingers.

“Mom!” he laughed louder now, trying to dodge “Stop it!”

She let out a low, satisfied laugh before loosening her grip and letting her hands fall.

"You and Bonnie are beautiful just the way you are. You don't need to be like me to be."

Jay remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing it. Then his brow furrowed again.

"And the next baby... will it be just like you too?"

Huntress's hands froze in mid-air for a fraction of a second. She had just lunged forward again to tickle him, but stopped mid-movement and stared at him.

“The next baby?” She repeated, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

Jay shrank slightly, his shoulders rising as if trying to appear smaller.

"I... maybe have heard it. When I woke up to get a drink of water at night."

Huntress snorted a strand of hair from her face with a resigned half-smile.

“Little spy,” she murmured. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. “You weren’t supposed to know yet. These things need a little more time for us to be sure.”

Jay's eyes widened slightly. "So it's true?"

“Maybe,” she replied. “A very small maybe still.” She pointed a finger at him, warningly. “And this stays between us, understand? No spreading it around.”

"I promise," Jay nodded quickly.

Huntress was still smiling as she turned back to the cloth spread out on the grass.

“Okay,” She said, resuming her calm and didactic tone, “now pay real attention. After you let go of the skin here—”

"Love?" Finn's voice came from the balcony before she could even finish the sentence.

Huntress lifted her head. Finn stood in the doorway, a small bundle in his arms that moved with impressive energy for someone so small. Josh was red-faced, his fists clenched, his loud, indignant sobs echoing through the yard as if announcing an impending tragedy.

“He’s hungry… again,” Finn said, with a mix of resignation and weary humor. Josh responded with even louder sobs, as if offended by the comment.

Huntress sighed, that automatic sigh of someone who already knew that moment was over.

“Im coming” She murmured, carefully getting up. “Keep trying. And when you go in, take the rabbit inside too, okay? Just like I showed you.”

Jay nodded, watching his mother cross the yard and enter the house while Finn disappeared right behind her, murmuring something softly to the baby who didn't seem at all interested in verbal comfort.

Jay looked at the rabbit. Then at his own hands.

“Okay…” he murmured to himself, “I can do it.” He moved closer, remembering his mother’s gesture. He held on tight. He pulled carefully at first… nothing. He frowned, took a deep breath, and tried again, this time with a little more force. The skin finally gave way. The movement wasn't perfect, nor elegant, but it worked. Jay broke into a wide, proud smile, his chest swelling as if he had just accomplished the most important thing in the world “I did it!” Without wasting any time, he jumped up and ran inside the house, holding the carcass with clumsy care, almost tripping over his own enthusiasm. “MOM! DAD! LOOK!”

In the kitchen, Huntress sat in one of the chairs, Josh finally at peace as he ate, his small body relaxed against her. Finn was right behind her, leaning against the backrest, watching the baby attentively, one hand resting on her shoulder.

They both looked up at the same time when Jay entered.

"I did it!" he announced, holding up the rabbit like a trophy.

Huntress's eyes widened for a second, then she smiled immediately.

"Very good! I told you that you could do it!"

Jay smiled even wider, clearly flattered by the compliment.

“Champ,” Finn said, nodding his head, “put that in the sink before he decides to bleed all over the floor.”

“Okay, Dad.” He obediently ran to the sink, taking extra care now, while Finn let out a low sigh and shook his head.

“One day,” he murmured, “this house will be cleaned for more than ten minutes at a time.”

Huntress chuckled softly, adjusting Josh against her chest before replying, “Highly unlikely. With that many mischievous feet running around… I think ten minutes is already an achievement.”

Finn sighed, but it was a light, almost satisfied sigh. He leaned forward a little more, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't mind having a few more at all," he murmured, his voice low, too close to her ear to be casual.

Huntress felt the heat immediately rise to her face. "Finn..." she chuckled softly, trying to keep her composure as she adjusted Josh again.

He smiled against her neck and left a few light kisses there, moving up the exposed shoulder of her shirt.

"You look beautiful when you blush," he commented, still too close.

"You're impossible," she replied, laughing, nudging his shoulder lightly with her elbow.

That's when a giggle escaped from the other side of the kitchen. They both froze. Finn slowly raised his head. Huntress turned her face away at the same time. On the stairs, half-hidden behind the railing, Bonnie stood, both hands covering her mouth as she tried to stifle a laugh, failing miserably.

“Bonnie…” Finn said, feeling his own face heat up in an alarming way. “What are you doing there?”

“You guys are cute!” she declared, and before anyone could react, she ran off toward the living room, “Daddy’s giving kisses!”

Bonnie had barely taken three steps before she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her off the ground. She let out a surprised little squeal that immediately turned into laughter, her legs kicking the air as he held her.

“Ah, so that’s how it is?” Finn said, feigning sternness. “Spying on your own parents now?”

"Daaad!" Bonnie laughed so hard she could hardly speak.

Before she could escape, Finn began showering her stomach with quick, exaggerated kisses, making dramatic sounds mid-attack. Bonnie completely collapsed, writhing, laughing loudly, and trying to contort herself to escape.

After a few seconds he finally put her down. Bonnie wasted no time: she ran straight behind Huntress, partially hiding behind the chair as if it were a human shield.

"Mom, protect me!" she pleaded, still laughing.

"Oh you two..." Huntress chuckled softly, shaking her head.

Bonnie peeked out from behind her mother, and then her attention was completely captured by her younger brother. Josh was still nursing, but his green eyes remained wide open, attentive, following the movements around him with quiet curiosity.

“He’s cute,” Bonnie declared, moving a little closer. “For a baby.”

"You were all adorable when you were babies," she replied. "Even when you were a handful."

"Especially when they were a handful," Finn added, crossing his arms with a half-smile.

Josh let out a small, satisfied sound and finally stopped eating. His body relaxed almost immediately, heavy with sleep. Huntress placed him against her shoulder, gently patting his back, feeling his breathing slow and become regular.

Jay emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his pants with evident pride.

"Mom" called, "When are we going to be able to practice hunting? You said you were going to show me how to use a bow a week ago."

“Maybe tomorrow,” she finally replied, “If the weather cooperates… and if you promise to really pay attention this time.”

"I promise!" he said, too quickly.

Finn frowned, his gaze shifting between Jay and Huntress with Josh nestled on his shoulder.

"Hey. Don't you want to play outside with your sister for a bit?"

Jay opened his mouth to answer immediately. His father's look was enough. He closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and turned his face away.

"Bonnie!" he called, trying to sound excited. "Let's go outside!"

Bonnie, who was still watching Josh, blinked a few times.

"Now?"

“Now,” Jay confirmed, already walking towards the door.

She shrugged and followed him, the two disappearing out of the house in a few seconds, leaving behind the distant sound of running footsteps and children's voices discussing something that seemed to involve branches, stones, and moss.

As soon as the door closed, Finn released the breath he had been holding.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to start with this now?” he asked, more quietly. “They’re still so young.”

Huntress hummed, running her hand down Josh's back in a slow, automatic motion.

"I learned to hunt at that age," She replied, shrugging.

"Bonnie almost cried when she saw a live rabbit being slaughtered in here."

Huntress paused for a moment, lost in thought. Her fingers continued making slow circles on the baby's back.

“Okay...” she admitted after a few seconds. “So maybe not everything yet.” She looked up at Finn. “With Bonnie, I can teach them which fruits are safe, which plants they can’t even touch, what they can eat, and what kills them quickly. No slaughtering for now.”

Finn nodded, feeling a little more relieved.

"That seems... reasonable"

Huntress remained silent for a longer moment this time. Her gaze drifted to some point on the wall, far away.

“We won’t be here forever,” she said finally, her voice lower. “None of us will.” Finn felt the weight of the sentence even before processing the words “I just want to make sure they know how to fend for themselves. That they don’t depend on luck. That they don’t get lost if one day…” she paused, took a deep breath, “If one day they need to be alone.”

Finn approached and placed his free hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"They'll be alright," he said firmly. "They have you."

Huntress let out a long sigh. Without saying anything, she leaned to the side and rested her forehead, then her cheek, on Finn's arm. Finn smiled slightly and ran his hand through her hair, gently stroking it slowly and carefully, his fingers gliding through the strands as if he knew exactly where to touch.

"Do you want to enjoy while they're distracted?"

"Yes" She replied softly, as if afraid of bringing bad luck.

With practiced, almost silent movements, Huntress stood up and placed Josh in the small basket lined with soft blankets near the wall. The baby stirred a little, murmured softly, but soon settled back down, completely surrendered to sleep.

Finn watched for a moment, making sure he was comfortable.

“Five minutes,” he said, as if he were making a sacred pact with the universe.

“Five minutes,” Huntress agreed.

The two practically raced to the couch. Finn barely had time to pull Huntress close before she threw herself against him, nestling sideways, her face buried in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, letting out a deep sigh.

Their eyes closed almost at the same second.

The cabin door slammed open.

“Mooooom! Daaaaad!” Bonnie stood in the middle of the room, covered in mud from head to toe. Twigs stuck in her hair, leaves clinging to her clothes. “JAY WON’T LET ME BE THE PRINCESS OF THE MUD CASTLE!” she yelled, stamping her foot to emphasize the injustice and causing a small mud puddle to form.

Josh grumbled at the noise, already moving again and crying softly.

Finn made an indistinct sound, something between a groan and a tired growl, without opening his eyes.

"It was good while it lasted..." he murmured, his voice muffled by the back of the sofa.