Chapter 62. Bonding 101
"It bit me! That thing just bit me!"
A shrill voice echoed through the sunlit classroom as a gangly third-year student backpedaled frantically, nearly tripping over his own feet. His right index finger was clutched dramatically in his left hand, though there wasn't a visible mark on it.
"Mr. Tanner, please control yourself," Professor Elowen said with the weary patience of someone who'd witnessed this exact scene dozens of times before. "The quillick did not bite you. They physically cannot bite – they have grinding plates, not teeth."
The quillick in question – a round, four-legged creature about the size of a large squirrel – peered up from the desk with enormous amber eyes. Its body was covered in soft spines that resembled quills but were actually more like fine fur. It made a gentle chirruping sound and bobbed its head inquisitively.
"It definitely bit me," Tanner insisted, but with noticeably less conviction.
"What you felt," Professor Elowen explained as she approached the student's desk, "was the quillick's sensory bristles. They use them to identify potential bond-mates." She reached down and allowed the small creature to nuzzle her palm. "See? Completely harmless."
From his spot three rows back, Adom suppressed a sigh.
The class was only fifteen minutes in, and already he was questioning his decision to take Basic Bonding. The classroom itself was unlike any other at Xerkes – more greenhouse than lecture hall, with living plants growing along the walls and ceiling, and desks made from unvarnished wood that still seemed to be alive, small leaves occasionally sprouting from their edges.
It was all very... druidic. Which was exactly what he'd signed up for, of course. But somehow, watching a thirteen-year-old nearly faint over what amounted to a magical hamster hadn't featured in his expectations.
"Now, if everyone would please return to the bonding exercise," Professor Elowen continued. "Remember, quillicks are empathic. They respond to your emotions, not just your actions."
"Look at you," Adom muttered, fighting a grin despite himself. "Not a thought behind those eyes, huh?"
The creature's permanent smile—a trait quillicks evolved in safe, rank D dungeons where predators were scarce—made it look perpetually delighted even when it was clearly confused. Its head tilted at a wrong angle when Adom waved his hand, like its neck mechanics weren't quite working right.
It was undeniably adorable—in that "bless your heart" kind of way. While the other quillicks demonstrated proper quillick intelligence, his seemed to have missed several developmental milestones.