A few days later, after a recovery from the sniffles a peacefully resting Mibbet was awoken by what can best be described as a banshee wail. “ROSSSAAALLLIIIINNNND followed by the sudden feeling like her guts were being squeezed out like paste from a tube.

“Oh no, Rosalind sighed, Mibbet put choppy back unless you want a diplomatic incident, it’s cousin Elvira.”

She had no idea who Cousin Elvira was, but a few flashes of memory, combined with the ominous creaking currently being emitted by her poor, defenceless ribcage quickly showed her she had to get free.

Mibbet glanced down at the humanoid vice currently crushing her, and it was a long way down, it seemed a human tadpole with red hair was attempting to evacuate her innards by squeezing hard enough that a bear hug from an actual bear would be somehow gentle in comparison. If she was still a frog this would have been a lot easier, frogs were a lot more squidgy and slippery after all. She would have already slipped free by now. But it would appear that her current human chassis did not come with that particular feature as standard.

“Elvira... stop... need.... air” Mibbet managed to squeeze out between breaths, somehow death by overenthusiastic hug was not how she pictured going, as spots appeared before her eyes before the tiny terror finally released her.

Mibbet sagged to the floor with a gasp of relief, air, even as an amphibian she hadn’t realised just how much she appreciated it.

Elvira Von Harmsworth was 3 feet tall (her being 8 and all this was a perfectly average height.) With bright red curly hair. Like Mibbet she trained with her guards, but unlike her she had been training since she was three (less average). The end result was a kid with strength that could make a gorilla blush. Sadly this also came with absolutely zero strength control, and possibly a sense of self control in the negative numbers.

Once her breathing settled down and Mibbet finally managed to stop seeing spots she asked. “So what brings you here cousin, not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, just curious.”Holding back a nervous chuckle.

“What? I need a reason to you now visit cuz?” Elvira replied grinning. “But yeah I heard you were training so I came to help.” The smile became bigger as she looked Mibbet up and down, and then spotted choppy under the pillow.

Suddenly that friendly smile seemed familiar to Mibbet, last time she had seen a smile like that it had been on a fox, and the end result had been nearly ending up des cuisses de grenouille. She was so screwed.

************************************************************************

Elvira still remembered the first time she had met her cousin, back then her training had been pretty much constant. But her dad was scarier than the training, and he never stopped. She wanted to be like him, so she took up training swords, and under his watchful eye she never let up.

Then Rosalind appeared, in a fancy dress with her dad hanging on her every word.

“Trick is in the eyes” Rosalind taught her. “Learn to guilt trip, if you squeeze your eyes real tight shut they get all watery. Use that and they think you’re crying. Most men don’t like admitting they have human emotions, much less dealing with them from others. Learn it and they’ll stop pushing you so hard.”

“You don’t know my dad,” Elvira replied. “That’ll never work on him, he’s waaay too tough.”

“Watch and learn kid” Rosalind shot back approaching the bipedal bulwark that was Deckham Von Harmsworth.

“Uncle Dec, can Elvira come and play with me pweeeaaassseeee.” Deckham turned to look.

“She has to train.” he replied seeming almost, dare she say it, HESITANT.

Suddenly from Rosalind came a tiny sniffle, as she unleashed the eyes on the unfeeling giant of a man. How did she make herself look so small and fragile? Then she looked up at Deckham with the puppy dog eyes. “Uncle, please let her take a break, she’s already so strong but she needs friends. If all she does is train then she’s gonna grow up to hate her poppa.”

It was a critical hit, right in the parenthood, and it showed. Deckham winced then quickly recovering he spoke again.

“Ahem* “I suppose she’s still a kid, Elvira go and play with your cousin, training will resume when we get home.”

That was the first time she ever saw cracks in the iron wall her father cast around himself constantly. But she had long been taught that a smart warrior learns to look out for vulnerabilities in their foe, (after all that’s how smart warriors avoid starting a new and not very exciting career as a worm all you can eat buffet. The not so smart warriors? Well a worm’s got to eat something right?)

With this she could lighten her training load up to that done by normal human beings, because if she tried living her life to her fathers expectations she’d be invading mercenary camps by secondary school. Because he seemed to forget, kids aren’t just miniature grown ups.

Now after all this time she had a way to repay her cousin (and frankly best friend) for the guidance, and she could do it with what she did best. Teaching her to fight properly.

Since Rosalind had last seen her the enforced training had slackened to practically zero (the puppy dog eyes saw to that pretty damn well, and Elvira could now use them almost as well as her mentor.) But Elvira was still Elvira, and so the self inflicted training had continued, only now it was a game. (Hey a game that makes the royal guard break out in cold sweats is still a game right? Admittedly one banned on playgrounds the world over, but still a game.) She looked over at her cousin/trainee with a grin. Rosalind looked a lot stronger now, and this could be fun.