Chapter 1: When the Morning Is Kind

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The Crone homestead had been passed down from her grandfather, a legacy rooted in generations of hardworking chupa farmers who tilled the same soil long before she was born.

Her father, Patrick, was raised on this land; his hands were shaped by hard work since he was old enough to walk beside his own father, Pascal, as they cultivated the fields. MaryAnne chose this life willingly, leaving everything she knew to build a life with him.

Their daughter, Selena Crone, woke up at dawn, a routine she had become accustomed to on her family's farm. She had spent her entire life there.

The morning light filtered through her curtains. She lay in bed, listening to the familiar quiet sounds around her and the soft creak of the house settling in the cool morning air.

The soundtrack of her childhood remained a reliable presence, even as she was no longer quite a child, already navigating the uncertain terrain of adolescence.

Well, it's time to get up and get ready for the day.

Selena pushed aside the quilt her mother had sewn years ago, its once-bright patterns now faded but still warm with memories.

She climbed out of bed, dressing quickly, pulling on her work clothes with the kind of muscle memory that needed no thought.

She paused, glancing at the old photographs lining her dresser, her parents on their wedding day, her father teaching her to hold a shovel twice the size of her tiny body, her mother braiding her hair. A staple of her appearance now. She always kept her long brown hair in a braided ponytail.

As Selena descended the stairs, their family pet, a Lilytiger cub, greeted her. The cub stretched and yawned before padding forward to nuzzle against legs with her petaled head, purring softly as if she had been waiting for Selena to wake up and start the day.

"Good morning to you as well, Milkthistle! Did you sleep well, my dear girl?" Selena said warmly, a bright smile spreading across her face.

She gently ran her claws through her soft fur for a few moments, letting out a quiet laugh as the rumbles deepened. The little cub soaked up every bit of the attention, and she refused to let the morning begin without proper cuddles.

Reluctantly, Selena drew her hand away, earning a soft, protesting chirr from the creature before she flopped back down near the stairs.

The young chupa chuckled under her breath and headed toward the kitchen, already alive with gentle motion, following the familiar smells of her mother preparing breakfast.

Morning light spilled in through the window over the sink, catching dust motes in its glow and painting the worn wooden table in gold.

MaryAnne stood at the hearth, sleeves rolled up, russet hair brushed back, her long tail flicking lazily behind her as she worked. A pan sizzled softly, the comforting scent of eggs, fried meat, and herbs filling the room.

"Good morning, Mama."

"Morning, sweetheart," her mother said without turning, somehow always aware of Selena's presence, guided by a mother's keen sense of instinct. "You're up early, dear."

Selena leaned against the doorframe for a moment, just watching her. Something was grounding about these mornings and seeing her mother exactly as she always had: steady, capable, at home in this space.

"Couldn't sleep past dawn if I tried," she replied. "Smells good. Need help?"

MaryAnne glanced over her shoulder now, brown eyes warm. "You can set the table. Your father'll be in soon, and you know how he gets when breakfast's late."

Selena smiled faintly as she moved to do as she was told. "Grumbly and dramatic?"

MaryAnne huffed a quiet laugh. "Starving, according to him. As if he didn't eat half the pantry before bed."

"That was one time," Selena said, amused, reaching for the plates.

"And I still haven't let him forget it," her mother replied, stirring the pan. "Now hurry, before he starts pacing."

Selena grinned and crossed the room, pulling plates from the cupboard. She laid out the dishes, then fetched the bread from the counter, slicing it the way her mother had taught her years ago.

MaryAnne slid the pan off the heat and turned fully toward her daughter, a soft smile on her face as she studied her. "You've got a long day ahead of you. But for now, sit. Eat. Let the morning be kind to you." She set a plate of food in front of her with a gentle touch.

"Yes, Mama." Selena did as she was told, settling into her chair. She wrapped her hands around a hot mug of tea, breathing in the steam, and for a moment, everything felt exactly as it should.

The door creaked as it opened, letting in a breath of cool morning air along with the solid, familiar presence of Patrick.

He ducked slightly as he stepped inside, broad shoulders brushing the doorframe, sandy fur dusted with flecks of hay and earth. His tail flicked once as he took in the scene: the set table, the steaming pan, Selena already seated with her mug, and a slow, satisfied smile tugged at his muzzle.

"Ah," he rumbled, voice still rough with sleep. "So this is why the house smells like heaven."

MaryAnne didn't look at him, but the corner of her mouth curved upward. "Good morning to you, too." she said dryly. "Wash up. Food's almost ready."

Patrick made a show of pressing a hand to his chest. "You wound me, MaryAnne. I was coming to say good morning to my family."

"And you can say it after you've scrubbed the barn off your hands," she replied, already plating the eggs.

Selena laughed softly. "Morning, Papa."

He turned toward her then, eyes warming instantly. "Morning, Sprout." He crossed the room and leaned down, brushing a kiss against the top of her head before straightening. "Up before the sun again," he murmured. "Ready to take on the day."

"She gets it from you," MaryAnne said, setting a plate on the table with a pointed clink.

Patrick chuckled and finally headed for the basin, splashing water over his hands. "Hard work never hurt anyone," he said, then paused, glancing back at Selena. "Well, at least not the stubborn ones."

Selena snorted into her mug.

He dried his hands and took his seat, the chair creaking under his weight. Milkthistle shifted beneath the table, tail thumping once against his foot.

Patrick reached for a piece of bread, then hesitated, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.

"You're going to be late again," MaryAnne said, not sharp, but not gentle either. "Mr. Caruthers won't wait all morning."

Patrick's jaw tightened just a fraction. "He said morning," he replied. "That could be anytime. Don't rush me. I had other things to take care of first."

"And he said he needed help fixing the tractor, before the heat sets in," she countered, sliding a plate towards him. "Not whenever you feel like wandering down there."

Selena lowered her gaze to her tea, shoulders drawing in.

Patrick caught it. His breath left him slowly. "I'm not starting this," he said, quieter now.

MaryAnne held his look for a beat longer than necessary, then turned away, busying herself with the pan. "Neither am I."

Silence settled.

MaryAnne sighed despite herself and rested a hand on his shoulder as she passed behind him. "Eat. Then go help Mr. Caruthers before he decides to come fetch you himself."

Patrick nodded once at MaryAnne's touch, the tension easing from his shoulders. "A'right." he said quietly.

Selena glanced down at her half-finished breakfast. The eggs had gone cold, the toast untouched at the edges. She took a small bite anyway, more out of habit than hunger.

The kitchen settled back into its familiar rhythm, but the quiet felt different now.

---

After breakfast, plates were stacked, the pan soaking by the sink, and her father's footsteps faded as Patrick headed out toward the barns ahead of her. MaryAnne pressed a quick kiss to Selena's brow before turning back to her work, already planning the rest of the day.

Selena stepped to the front door, one hand resting on the worn handle, taking in a long breath before pushing it open.

When she opened the door, the morning greeted her in full. Chilled air brushed her fur and filled her lungs, carrying the rich scent of tilled soil and dew-soaked grass. The sky stretched wide and pale above the homestead, the sun just beginning its steady climb.

Selena lingered for a moment longer, letting the breeze tug at her braid, then squared her shoulders. There was work to be done, chores, responsibilities, the rhythm she had been born into.

With a final glance back at the door behind her, Selena descended the steps and set out across the yard, the morning unfolding around her as she walked into the day.

In the lush trees surrounding the farm Riddlegwok, a chorus of birds began to wake, their unique calls ringing through the air. These remarkable creatures, known for their ability to spit hot acid from sacs beneath their beaks, perched gracefully on the sturdy branches.

Her first stop was always the Elephant Bison pen. The massive, cattle-like creatures were a staple of ranch life. Patient, powerful animals that adapted easily to nearly any terrain. They provided meat, durable leather, and dependable labor, trained from a young age to work alongside chupa hands.

Selena's family bred and raised them with care, selling stock to neighboring farmers and relying on them as one of the homestead's most reliable sources of income, along with the produce they grew. The massive beasts exhaled clouds of warm breath into the cold air. Their shaggy coats shimmered faintly gold in the sunrise. The closest one, her favorite named Bramble, let out a low, rumbling greeting, shaking his head to ruffle his dark mane.

"Hey there, big guy," Selena said, reaching up to scratch the thick fur beneath his chin. Bramble leaned into it so hard she nearly lost her footing. "Okay, okay! I'm feeding you, I promise, hold on a sec!"

She strolled over to the side, reaching for the hefty buckets brimming with the golden feed. With a deliberate motion, she hoisted each one, tipping the buckets, sending a cascade of grain spilling into the trough with a satisfying thud.

The sound of the pellets hitting the metal resonated in the air, quickly overshadowed by the deep, contented grunts of the herd eagerly anticipating their meal.

The rest of the herd ambled forward, their heavy steps thudding softly against the packed earth as they gathered around the trough. Bramble nudged his massive shoulder against a younger bull trying to cut in line, snorting a warning. Selena rolled her eyes fondly.

"Play nice," she muttered, even though she knew Bramble wouldn't listen. He was gentle with her, but with the other bison? He acted like he owned the place.

...Which, in fairness, he kind of did.

Once the Elephant Bison were settled, Selena wiped her paws on her pants and headed toward the next enclosure.

The Moa, large flightless birds native to its ancient landscapes, were already awake. Some sprawled lazily across the lush green grass, soaking in the gentle morning sunlight, while others busily preened their feathers, their long necks bending gracefully as they groomed each plume with care.

When Selena had wandered closer, the large, feathered birds trotted over the grass. One of the hens, a tall one with shimmering brown plumage, lowered her head for Selena to stroke.

"Hello, Hazel," Selena murmured, gently running her fingertips along the bird's warm neck. Hazel let out a pleased trill before strutting off to join the others at the feeding trough as Selena filled it with their food.

She walked over to the Bunnylops, who were already bouncing around their pen like tiny spring-loaded puffballs, their ears flopping out of sync with every hop. The moment they spotted her, they rushed the fence in a squeaking tidal wave of fluff.

"Hold on, hold on," she laughed, unlocking the gate. One Bunnylop immediately darted between her legs and tried to run for freedom. Selena caught it by the scruff with practiced ease. "Tulip, I swear, you wake up every morning and purposely choose chaos. Why can't you be like your other siblings and be a little more patient?"

Tulip blinked at her with big, round eyes, twitching her nose completely unrepentant.

She set the little troublemaker back inside and scattered their feed. A chorus of excited chirps filled the air as the Bunnylops dove into their breakfast, stuffing their cheeks until they looked like overfilled dumplings.

By the time she finished hauling grain, feeding and grooming all the animals, and checking water levels, the sun had climbed higher, its warmth sinking into Selena's fur and brushing away the last of the morning chill.

She straightened and stretched, a quiet, satisfied hum escaping her as her muscles loosened. Another set of chores done... and suddenly, the rest didn't seem quite so daunting.

Her eyes wandered to the long dirt road that curved between her family's farm and the neighboring property, the Caruthers family's farm.

The Caruthers had been part of her life for as long as she could remember, long enough that she couldn't picture her childhood without them.

Her parents often said that Carter and Madison had known her even before she learned to walk, having been passed from one set of arms to another at gatherings and tucked against familiar chests while the twins played nearby.

Growing up, there was never a time when they weren't there: shared meals, playful scuffles under the table while the adults engaged in conversation, and countless playdates that blurred together.

Friendship hadn't been something they chose. It had simply... always been.

Carter would be up by now.

She pictured it clearly, the way she'd always looked up when she heard him, the easy grin that followed, the way the world seemed to slow for just a moment when their eyes met.

The idea sent a little thrill through her, light and giddy, and she found herself moving faster, eager for that small, treasured meeting that made the morning feel special.

If she hurried, they could meet at the fence line, just like they always did.

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.