World Walker Park [Magical Amusement Park Base-Building]

As the days fell back into normalcy and the park thrived, Luka built more additions, Mayor Tram hired more staff, Annie terraformed the land, and Ressen continued to draw guests. It was a time of chaos, new faces and endless thrills.

That was why Leo took it upon himself to maintain the beauty of the Companion Retreat of the World Tree Inn. Some might call them pets or mounts, but Leo preferred "companion." It evoked a friendlier attitude; one he shared with the guests stabled on the premises.

There were companions of all types, from the simple horse to floating tentacle masses that bent gravity to their will and floated around, speaking telekinetically into the minds of others. Some were friendly, the type that could enter the play pens and instantly find a niche and learn the rules to whatever game was played. Others were the awkward type, who ended up sitting around the outskirts too afraid to talk to anyone else.

Leo made sure those were as comfortable as they would allow. One particular guest caught his eye, a mighty dragonfly the size of a pony. She had the telltale marks of a saddle across her back—matted spindly hairs, depressed and pale scales, and the posture to keep her rider up. The saddle was stored away , no companion other than park employed companions had to work while staying at World Walker Park.

Leo sauntered over, maintaining his puppy-altered size. He had found most people preferred him in a small stature, be it for extra scratches, treats, or the perceived notion that he wasn't a threat. Ressen's pacifying domain worked wonders, but that didn't mean companions were stupid. Everyone knew a dire-wolf could rip out the throat of any beasty not scaled.

The dragonfly shuffled uncomfortably when he neared. Leo barked once, a gentle and tender bark. Most riders—those without a way to speak animal—would hear his bark as exactly that. Some could infer from Leo's tone and posture, like Luka, but others were as perceptive as a brick wall when it came to how companions communicated.

The dragonfly, however, would hear Leo's bark for what it actually was: words.

"Hello, how are you today?" he said.

The dragonfly's five eyes darted around. "Are you talking to me?" She could no doubt see almost all the way around her. She knew exactly who Leo was talking to.

Still—Leo understood the timidness of the situation and played along. "Of course!" he barked. "I couldn't help but notice you're out here alone. Might there be something I could help you with?"

It was true that some companions were lone wolf types, ignore the irony, but Leo knew those breeds and species by heart. A dire-dragonfly wasn't one of them.

"I—uh," the dragonfly's voice was a chittering type, a voice that rushed through symbols with a hollow rattle. "I don't want to impose on anyone."

Leo nodded along. It was an excuse he'd heard before. The introverted types were always like this, he recognized. It took a little extra push to get them out of their shell. The problem was not pushing too hard. He didn't want to ruin a guest's experience for something as simple as trying to be nice.

"You wouldn't be," Leo barked. "New faces come and go every day. If you wanted, I could introduce you to a freshly formed group of dire-insects. I'm not sure if we have another dire-dragonfly on the premises, but I'm sure you'll connect well with the other insects. I know most do."

"I don't know…"

"They lounge in a small grove of flowers and dung, if that sweetens the deal."

"Dung?"

"You know, for the dire-beetles." Leo's snout scrunched. "Personally, I don't get it. But then again, I can smell everything for miles around."

"I do like flowers," she muttered.

"The dung also attracts plenty of mundane bugs, if you get peckish. As I understand, the larva is particularly plump this time of year."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

It didn't take much longer to convince her. Leo showed her the way to the flower grove, past the saltlick, and around the Companion's Retreat's newest addition, a hot spring. The hot waters soothed companions after long walks across the countryside, perfect for relieving those pesky knots that never seemed to go away.

"Leo!" one of the companions yelled as he and the dragonfly passed. He was of the thunder-hoof variety, a proud species of animal that were distantly related to the common mountain goat. But where a mountain goat ate weeds and bushes, the thunder-hoof ate lightning itself.

"How can I help?" asked Leo, not stopping his walk.

"Do you know where Mira is? I, uh, want to talk to her," said the thunder-hoof.

I'll bet, Leo thought with a chuckle.

Soul Singer Mira was a local celebrity when it came to the Companion's Retreat. As a Gilded Beast, her title and renown preceded her just as much as her elusiveness did. She was an enigma, as far as the companions knew, a walking royal creature. She was also a kirin, and some of the less bright goat guests thought she was one of them.

She wasn't, no matter how many times she told them. A goat's arrogance and pride were something special, Leo could testify to that!

"If I see her, I'll tell her you're looking for her," Leo replied, but shifted his trot up a notch. "Right this way, miss," he then said to the dragonfly, purposefully ignoring the thunder-hoof's wallowing self-aggrandizing response.

There were many things Leo liked about this job—interactions with the 'alpha' type beasts was not one of them. Leaders of the pack, they called them. Leo preferred 'annoying,' however. Such was the way of the animal kingdom.

The trail led slightly into the forest, and soon opened into a small clearing. The place was a heaven of mystical flowers and radiant plants. Vines climbed the surrounding trees; green stalks grew from the rich dirt. Petals of every color under the sun waved in the soft wind.

"The grove was provided by Goddess Evergreen," Leo explained. "She wanted to bring floral beauty to the park and worked out a deal with the World Walker to do as such. There are a few similar groves around the park, but for the most part her green thumb can be seen within the Bestial Kingdom."

"It's beautiful," the dragonfly said, voice fluttering.

Leo gave a devilish smile. "Right this way, miss."

He continued down into the grove, noting someone had dug up one of the flowerbeds… again! He took a calming breath and ignored it… for now.

The grove was sectioned into three distinct parts. The first was the sunning area, a mostly clear section specifically designed to allow companions a place to warm themselves. The second was a common-type area where a small saltlick and ever-gushing pool of water sat. It was for conversation and relaxation, not sleeping. The third and final area was the mulch.

That was where the other dire-insects gathered. They stood around the dung watching one of the dire-beetles shape and mold the dung into a great sculpture, a statue of Goddess Evergreen. It was almost lifelike—if it wasn't made of excrement, that was.

Leo held his breath and trotted in, the dragonfly right behind him. "Hello," he said, trying not to breathe. "I heard there was a gathering, I thought you all might like one more."

He stepped to the side, showing off the dragonfly. There were a few ooohs and ahhhs from the group as they inspected the intricate green and teal pattern in her set of wings, or eyed her five eyes with jealousy.

A dire-centipede uncurled himself and raised a single, of many, leg, "A pleasure. Do you like our new friend's art?"

The dragonfly shook the man's leg and turned her attention to the dung sculpture. "I, uh, yes. I do." She watched as a larva of some kind burst from the base.

The artist beetle groaned and moved to give that area a touch-up. "Anyone want this?" he asked, holding the larva up.

"Give it to the newcomer," said a dire-stick bug

The dragonfly startled, not noticing the lengthy creature. She leaned against the nearby tree, completely camouflaged like a, well, stick. The stick chuckled at her surprise. "Never gets old," she muttered.

The larva was passed to the centipede and he shifted it between his legs, all the way to the dragonfly, where he dropped it before her. "They're good. Plump with mana from Goddess Greenthumb's mana flowers."

The dragonfly looked at Leo, who gave an encouraging nod. She then lowered herself and ate it. Her five eyes widened. "This is good!"

"Plenty more of them," huffed the beetle.

The dragonfly moved closer. "Are there any eggs? I prefer eggs to larva."

The other dire-insects had adopted her as their own.

Leo inched away before eventually disappearing completely. Another guest's needs met. Another job well done.

His expression darkened. Now he had to find the annoying opossum who kept tearing up the garden.