Shrub sat outside her house at the forge. She placed a sheet of red-hot iron on the top, using a hammer to beat the malleable material into the appropriate shape. She twisted the the metal around with her gloves. She needed a sword that was sharp enough to kill skeletons for her new grinder, but she didn't need one that could do much damage. The sword needed to survive for a good while, but it didn't need to be at such a good quality that Shrub needed to seek out a blacksmith to make the blade for her. Shrub may not have been a master at making weapons, but she had enough basic knowledge that the sword would do its job. Taking a step back, Shrub was proud of her handiwork despite not having the finesse of a bladesmith. Shrub let the sword drop into the basin of water. She pulled off her gloves, shoving them into her back pocket.

"Have you ever made a sword before?" Shrub asked her companion with a soft smile as she wiped the sweat off her face with the towel that he handed her. Shrub pulled away to look at Tommy. He was staring out with a faraway look. It was the kind of gaze that Tommy had when he reminisced about his past. It didn't always mean horrible times, but it frequently accompanied his depressive moods. Shrub didn't know how to offset the mood with something lighter, but she wouldn't stop until she found a way to make Tommy feel better about whatever was currently chaining him down.

"Made a lot of 'em. Wooden, iron, a gold one once. I was never allowed to use the diamond or Netherite. Like I would fuck up making a sword when I had been making all of the L'Manberg corps' shit," Tommy replied gruffly. Shrub's lips pressed together. Tommy often mention faraway places and times of war. Shrub never asked about it. She merely let the conversation continue without questioning it. It didn't seem like Tommy was name-dropping on purpose. All Shrub could gather was that L'Manberg was once Tommy's home, it wasn't anymore for some reason, and Tommy had been major general, the righthand of the lieutenant general who Tommy was especially close with.

"Well, I won't demand you make my country weapons, but if you want to help out, I won't stop you. Or, I can help you find your own materials to make weapons for yourself. The sword I gave you isn't the best quality, to be honest. It was one of my first tries that I kept around for memory's sake," Shrub said, sitting on the crafting table that was made for the outdoors. She pulled her legs up to her chest, peering over to Tommy. He was sitting on a mushroom, leaned against the house. His gaze floated around the branches of the large tree. She looked at the tree to see if she could find out what held his attention.

"You said I could have the sword," Tommy responded quickly, defensively. Shrub turned to him sharply. The tone he used was unlike anything Shrub had heard before from Tommy. It had this edge of fear in it that Shrub couldn't understand. For the most part, Tommy was rather fearless with a reckless streak. This level of barely restrained panic was unfamiliar. "You told me it was mine. You said I could keep it."

"You can!" Shrub called out, quick to reassure. Tommy's hands began shaking she noticed. His face was pale. He kept whispering about how it was his, whatever it was. Shrub pushed herself off the crafting table. She walked around the basin with her sword in it. When she was in front of Tommy, he didn't look at her. He was looking past her. Shrub didn't know what it meant. She grabbed onto his hands, running her thumb across his fingers. "I meant what I said, Tommy. You can keep the sword."

Shrub made the wrong choice. She was harshly pushed aside. Tommy fell off the mushroom from the force of pushed someone. Tommy scrambled around on the ground. His eyes were wild, and his breath was starting to pick up. Shrub had to watch as Tommy started digging a hole in the ground with his bare hands. A mixture of apologies, whimpers, and pleas fell from Tommy's lips. A prominent word that was mentioned, however, was 'dream'. Shrub didn't know who or what this 'dream' was, but it was obvious he was the source of Tommy's initial trauma that led to this panicking.

"Tommy," Shrub said softly but loud enough that he could hear over his muttering. The blonde must have heard because he stopped muttering, though he kept digging the hole. "Tommy, can you please look at me?" He looked up briefly, but his gaze dropped back down like he saw someone that wasn't Shrub. She continued. "Tommy... can you tell me... things that you see? Around you? Anything at all."

Tommy face remained down, but Shrub could see his eyes flickering from side to side. He heard Shrub, but was he going to answer her? She wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't. Shrub didn't know what she was doing. The only person she had ever seen panicking had pushed her away violently before she could try to help. Tommy wasn't like that person, however, because his shaky voice began describing the world around him. "D-dirt... I see dirt... there's... grass. In the dirt. A... mushroom?"

"That's great, Tommy. Now... do you know where you're at?" Shrub said carefully. Should she ask more senses questions before she asked about where he thought he was? Shrub wasn't prepared for this. What if she messed up? What if something she said sent Tommy spiraling even farther down the traumatic memories? She had already done that once when she tried to grab his hands. Shrub took a calming breath, pushing those thoughts away. What good would it do if she started panicking, too?

"I- I don't know. It's not Logstedshire..." Tommy said, looking up to see the environment around them. Shrub didn't know what 'Logstedshire' was, but it must have been the location where this trauma begun. Other clues Shrub had was the name 'dream', the fact that this was spurred on by Tommy believing Shrub was taking something from him, and something to do with digging holes in the ground. Shrub couldn't figure out much more than that, but she decided not to theorize with clues she received. Tommy would tell her when the time was right.

"That's right, Tommy. This isn't Logstedshire. This is the Undergrove. You're with me. Do you remember me? I'm Shrub," The gnome said. For the first time since Tommy's panicking, he finally looked up at her. Shrub saw recognition swimming in those blue eyes- clearer than the arctic sky in the early morning. Tommy reached a hesitant hand in the air, and Shrub remained still as his fingers brushed against her cheek. Shrub tried not to show how concerned she was for the boy. Tommy pulled his hand back to his chest. "It's me, Tommy. It's Shrub."

"Shrub," Tommy repeated. His breathing had evened out, and his was begun to relax his tense muscles. Shrub could see tears starting to form in his eyes, though. With the sun beginning to set as well, she stood onto her feet. Shrub slowly reached her hand to Tommy, hoping he didn't instinctively think she was going to hit him. Shrub would never hit Tommy if she had any choice about it. Tommy flinched away from the hand, but he didn't start hyperventilating when he saw it. Tommy took the hand extended to him. Shrub led Tommy back into the house. They went to the second floor where Tommy sat on the couch. Shrub gathered some warm blankets and comfy pillows for them. Shrub sat on the edge of the couch, placing a pillow between her and the couch's arm. She wrapped a blanket around her. When Shrub relaxed against the pillow, she saw Tommy looking at her hesitantly. Shrub smiled softly as she opened her arms. Tommy's expression flashed with indignant annoyance, but it quickly melted into the face of child who needed comfort and was too tired to pretend he didn't.

Tommy wrapped his arms around Shrub's waist, burying his face in her shoulder. Shrub placed a light hold around his shoulders, one hand playing with his hair. Tommy was stiff as a board, but the soothing touch made his relax slowly until he was practically asleep. Shrub found herself humming an old lullaby from her homeland that she hadn't thought about in years. When Tommy as half-asleep against her, she started whispering. "You can always lean on me, you know? You're more than a citizen of the Undergrove. I told you I would take care of you. If you ever need a hug, you can always come to me, mab."

Shrub tried not to make it obvious how she tensed at the last word. For more than one reason, it put her on edge. For starters, it was her native language. She hadn't spoken gnim since she left her homeland. Shrub had adopted the universal language that the other Empires usually spoke in. It was the official second language of every country that they used for diplomacy. Shrub hadn't been given a chance to use it yet with other Empires, but she had been practicing it since she arrived. Shrub had been perfecting it when Tommy arrived, and he would help her remember the words since it was the only language he knew. Her native language was something she thought she had left behind in the aftermath of leaving home. She was okay with never speaking it again, but here she was, subconsciously adding it in. The more prominent reason was what the word meant. She prayed that Tommy didn't know a thing about gnim. She didn't want to explain why she said that, or scare him off when he realized how Shrub saw him.

It didn't seem like Tommy knew, however. Shrub breathed out in relief. There would be another time to explain what Shrub saw in Tommy. For now, Shrub provided Tommy with the nurturing he needed. It wasn't long before Shrub heard his breath slow down. His body stopped twitching with restlessness. She knew he was asleep. Shrub smiled despite herself. She was happy that she could give Tommy some form of comfort. With that being done, Shrub's head fell back against the pillow. She let her nerves seep away as she continued playing with Tommy's hair until she had fallen asleep.