The warm sunlight filtered through the green leaves, providing a comfortable shade for the mature woman and her darling little companion. She sat on her stomach in the protection of the arboreal guardian, her right hand holding open a thin book, and her left crossed over to allow her chin to rest. Pod sat here, on her bare arm; short sleeves required for the comfortable day.

"Then... he... nibb-led..."

"Nibbled."

"Nibbled... a... hol-e, um, 'hole'... in... the... co-coon," he said methodically. Pod sounded out the words very carefully in his head before he read them aloud, translating the runes to recognisable sounds, and stringing them into words. "pushed... his... way... out... and... He... was... a... a... um..."

"Sound it out sweetie," Natasha instructed, peering through her spectacles.

"Be-a-utiful? Oh! Beautiful!"

Natasha nodded proudly, a wide smile on her face.

"Beautiful... butterfly."

Natasha beamed her smile at him, closing 'the Very Hungry Caterpillar'. He had made it all the way through, which was quite an impressive feat. "Good job! You're making such good progress. How 'bout a break?"

Pod laughed and sighed simultaneously, "Yes please."

"Sure thing," she said, picking him up and moving onto her back, placing him on her shirt-covered belly to soak in the warm sun. He stretched his stiff body and rested his exerted mind.  

As Natasha became closer and closer with the tiny, she was mortified to discover how naive and under-educated he was. It was like speaking to an alien almost, he couldn't read or write, knew nothing of history or science, and what was strangest of all he barely knew any animals outside of the garden realm. Of course, Natasha took the roll of his teacher, educating him on how to read, do basic arithmetic, and other basics young children have to learn. It was slow at first, his mind was well-developed and not flexible like those of children; but what he lacked in mental elasticity he made up for in tenacity and desire to learn. In particular he took an interest in history, sitting for hours watching documentaries and educating himself. He'd proudly parrot facts like, 'Cleopatra had an entire village of tinies built in her palace!' and other such tid-bits. Natasha was just happy to see him learn.

After the tumultuous events of yesterday, Pod needed some fresh air, and although the outside world was an intimidating place, he'd go wherever she felt comfortable taking him. He stretched his back near an ivory button keeping the opposing sails of her shirt together. The green sea of the leaves above him was an interesting sight, it seemed so far away from the boy, and brimmed with the fantastical and slightly menacing dragons known as birds; they were always the biggest deterrent to his 'excursions'. But with Natasha here, the bird was another of the tinies' mortal enemies that he was protected from.

Pod felt a tremor on the ground, a thundering, rhythmic unsteadiness. Not due to the subtle feeling of her expanding chest, he was used to that, no, this was something approaching. The crash became louder, and the feeling of fluttering impacts into the grass-blade knit ground intensified and hastened. His throat and chest tightened, his muscles twitching in fear; this was wrong... something was wrong. He gripped into the thick fabric button-down, and shot his microscopic pupils around the bright scenery. When finally, the great beast showed itself; an incomprehensible blur of random colour filled his view, causing him to lurch back as his muscles engaged in a seizured movement. 

It was a child running past.

Pod sucked pollen-ridden air into his lungs and angled his eyebrows down, gazing with embarrassment as the child, one that likely hadn't seen him, shrunk in his view. He knew what was coming next.

"Pod? What's wrong?" Natasha asked in quick response after feeling his jolted movement.

Pod remained in a sullen silence, she was astute enough to know what had caused it soon enough; and he couldn't take the shame of admitting he had been startled by such a banal thing.

"Was it that little kid just now?" she asked, gentle accusation on her tone. She poked a finger near his head to feel the tickle of his nod, which indeed she did. "Pod..." she felt nauseous, he was different, so jumpy, flighty, he was living his life on the edge in a purely negative way. Perhaps he was demure before, but now he was completely fearful. "Pod... you're a brave kid..." she sighed, knowing what was best at the moment. She directed his tiny body through the air and onto a tall breast where she could see him, cute oversized shirt and all. She stared down her polite spectacles and onto him, his exposed face wearing a horrible expression: shame. 

Natasha cruelly pushed her tongue into her front teeth to think, sucking on her lips. Frustration welled up; why was Veronica such an idiot? She'd turned him into a wreck. She knew he didn't want to hear this, but he had to, "Pod, you can't keep living like this."

He nodded meekly, still looking away. 

Natasha didn't know what she expected, she knew words wouldn't help right now. Maybe it would help if he was so terrified at home; he had clung to her all morning, baulking at the thought of even a few moments alone. The older woman finally had an idea, "Pod... if I put you on better terms with Veronica, do you think you'd feel more comfortable?"

She saw his minute chest expand in a deep breath, "M-maybe, but she hates me... she even knows I'm not a person..."

Natasha grimaced again, "You are a person Pod, no ifs or buts. I promise you sweetie, if you be brave we'll get through this," she said in a vibrant tone, rich with determination.

Pod heaved a lump of fear in his gut away, she was right. He just needed to be brave, brave in the face of a mortal enemy... brave... He had done it before, he could do it again. But it was hard... 

Natasha could see his crumbled resolve, and it simply broke her heart. She engaged her fingers over his back and gingerly gripped him in her palms, his head peeking out from above her palm-heels. She patted his head, running from his hair to down his smooth face; his frowning face. "Be brave Pod... I love you, I want you to be brave," she said, her voice dire.

Her words put a smile on his lips, he felt what she said was true. She pat his head with her monstrous thumb and he pat her hand with his minute hand, and she knew that was his way of making a promise. 

---

Pod was in in the crest of two mountains, a hidden alien vale among a mountain range of plump textile. To his left the armrest rose above his head, a sheer cliff that was far too great to scale. Immediately behind him the even greater mountain of the backrest rose, exponentially greater than the adjacent armrest it dwarfed. And to his right, even greater still, was the neatly dressed living mountain of Veronica, legs crossed politely as she watched the television. 

Vulnerable was what he felt. He was like a tiny speck amid the blue sea of the cushion, the backrest was comically sized for him, and the distant armrest was naturally impossible. The blue surface directly ahead seemed like a giant field, stretching out in all directions only to be halted by sheer cliff-faces, drop-offs or dangerous giant monsters. He awkwardly played with his millimetre long fingers in an attempt to swallow his fear, just as Natasha wished of him.

Veronica was mostly ambivalent to the 'insect's' presence. Natasha had come in only a few minutes ago and harshly warned her of what she'd do if she laid a finger on poor, innocent Pod, while she did miscellaneous housework. Apparently all he wanted to do was watch television together, although Veronica suspected this was purely engineering. So as Pod sat awkwardly in a seat hundreds of times too big for him, Veronica placidly watched the nature documentary with small interest.

"V-Veronica..." he peeped.

She heard a small, weak, squeaky little pip from her left, and looked down at the tiny, frightened little mouse in response. She smirked, she must have really traumatised the pipsqueak if his voice sounded like THAT.

"Mm?" she said with cocked eyebrows.

"Th-the... tissue box. C-can you move it please..." he said with a diaphanous voice. 

Silently, Veronica slid the cardboard receptacle over, and returned to her placid sitting without even aknowledging him again.

"Th-thank you," he said in a whisper, almost a frightened hiss.

Pod's trial was now over, and he sighed a sigh of relief, and prayed she hadn't noticed his how relieved he was in the face of such a trivial thing. He now had a clear, unobstructed view of the giant screen, and could now enjoy the show. He would usually be sitting somewhere on Natasha while watching, and he obviously could not do the same with Veronica. 

In a quarter of an hour Pod had managed to calm from a panicking bug to a slightly calmer bug, and could now play with his shirt instead of his fingers. A nature documentary was on the screen, one of his personal favourite genres; there were so many animals he had never seen or heard of, like sharks, and eagles, and bears, and the dozens of other things that domestic tinies would never see. And although not all of their sizes and appearances bode well with him, he knew that he would probably never see a bear in real life, and even if he did he was sure Natasha would work something out.

At the moment they were documenting several different kind of insects, creatures with which Pod, shamefully, related to slightly. Or at least he felt he knew more about them than a normal human. As a young child he would make friends with the ants the size of small puppies and watch with wonder as his older brothers and father would bring back a hunted grasshopper to eat. He watched on, seeing exotic beetles and other insects he'd never dreamed of, and feeling himself become slightly more worldly, with each new critter.

That was until the spiders came up. At the first hint of a tarantula's leg he plopped into his shirt, arms and all, and was preparing to wait out the grotesque storm. 

Veronica saw the very slight movement at the periphery of her vision and turned to face him, "Don't like spiders huh?" she asked.

He shook his head in the shirt, still clearly visible.

"Do you want me to change the channel?" she asked again.

Another nod.

Veronica complied and changed the channel, some sitcom of small note. Pod came undone and began watching, thankful he was no longer forced to endure the arachnid monsters.

Why did she do that? She didn't really care if he was scared or not, it was his own fault for being a coward. Perhaps she was just... annoyed by it or something. 

Veronica continued to watch the sitcom, the canned laughter slightly grating, but tolerable. During a certain scene, she heard another noise from her left, high pitched and soft, she realised her companion was giggling. What a strange noise... it was quite squeaky, like everything that came from his tiny mouth, but it was... infectious. The blonde giant covered her mouth as she involuntarily began laughing too, partially from the show and partially from Pod. Her louder jubilation drowned out his peepering, but he continued to sensibly giggle. Veronica remembered to yesterday, "Just like us..."

When the joke had finished, Pod turned to look at her, only to find she was doing the same to him. They shared eye-contact for a brief moment, not exactly sure what they were trying to convey to one another, before turning back to watch the show. And with a touch more mutual comfort, continued to laugh together.

A spent Natasha walked to the door leading to her living room after her chores were completed, ready to rescue Pod from an at best awkward and at worst terrifying experience. As she did so, she began to hear what sounded like... laughing; naturally her mind jumped the worst, and she imaged the cruel woman cackling at the dehumanised boy as he was tortured. She fastened her pace and quickly stepped in, much to her relief seeing that she was simply watching a comedy. To even further relief, she saw Pod hadn't moved from his designated seat, and by the very slight movements he made, he was laughing too. She couldn't help but smile with cheeks cherry from exertion, and walk with slipper clad feet over to her blue couch. 

"Nice to see you two getting along," she said merrily. Veronica gave her a queer look, one that looked shocked and even conflicted. Natasha just smiled it off. "Mind if I join?" 

Veronica shrugged.

So Pod wasn't extinguished beneath her backside, Natasha picked up the tiny and relocated him to her shoulder, along the soft, almost futon-like slope of her neck. She slid a pin from her mature bun and let her dark hair encase Pod in a concealed space, like a stage post curtain call. He felt safe here, much less exposed than before. All there was here was Natasha's colossus of a head and his window to the screen; Veronica done away with. 

The opposite blonde giant took sneaky, side-long glances at Natasha. It was strange... behind her limp hair was TWO people, and it was strange how intimate it seemed. They must have been close, to be so close to each other and brush it off so easily; it seemed she had poorly gauged their relationship.

As the night went on, the trio watched on with occasional comments, even from Pod, who would usually whisper something to Natasha which would be relayed again. It was quite serene, and all three were comfortable with where they were. 

In an exceptionally dim sound, heard only barely by Natasha, Pod let out a long yawn. After years of a bat-like sleeping routine Pod had managed to develop something more human; tonight that was in full effect, and he was dreadfully sleepy. Picking up on his infectious yawning, Natasha brought up a hand and gently stroked him, which was something that always exacerbated his drowsiness. 

Comfortably touched by the large digit, which he hugged into like a child to a stuffed toy, he listened in to her heavy voice, "Are you tired Pod?" 

She felt a tickle of hair on her neck: nodding. At the moment, she was a little too comfortable to tuck him into his sock for the night, so instead he'd rest comfortably enough iin her palm. 

"Come and sleep here," she said, opening up the hand that stroked him and welcomed him aboard. Pod, obedient and content as always, scrambled over her fingers and onto her palm, looking up to her smiling face. She saw him glance over at the third member of their triplet. Natasha smiled a subtly different smile, more of an encouraging one than one of adoration, trying to convince him to stay and resist. Pod accepted the fact that he'd sleep partially under Veronica's gaze, as long as he was in the wide, warm, protecting palm of Natasha, he was fine.

Mulling over, Pod grabbed at a plain segment of her pudgy palm, beneath the towering pillars of her upturned fingers. He shifted the butter-like thick skin and 'fluffed it' as one does a pillow, making sure it was soft as could be. The tired boy wiggled his arms from their grey sleeves, pulling the shirt over him and revealing his thin loinclothed torso. Casting the fabric aside, he dropped his head down to the softened plump skin and rubbed his face into it, very slightly tickling her with his paint-brush hair. He was nestled into the angled wall at the base of her digits, plump bottom segments slightly fatter than the apex of the four totem poles. Lovingly, Natasha withdrew a small, thin rag from her pocket and draped the blanket over him, to which he clutched the corner and held it tight.

He was such a gentle creature, the picture of innocence it seemed. As he breathed in the very slightly humidified air of her palm, she felt the expanding of his chest, a comforting feeling; he was alive and well. Pod was tiny, he was absolutely minute, her dainty fingers stood taller than his meagre frame, and when he was curled up like this he was nothing but a faintly breathing bundle of delicate adolescent. If she so desired, Natasha was sure it would only take a slight clench of her fist to reduce him to a puddle, but she would never in a million years do something in the same realm as that. Instead she folded her cupped palms, rested them in her lap, and attempted to keep as still as possible to not disturb his slumber. "Good night, sweetie," she wished.

"N-nigh..." he began to say before trailing off into a yawn and not bothering to finish his word.

Natasha turned her eyes back to the screen now that he was tucked in. 

"I suppose he is... cute," Veronica said, seemingly out of the blue. Natasha was slightly taken by her friend's words, turning to see a rather blank expression with dull eyes poised on her folded hands. 

Natasha's face melted into a smile, "Yes, he is."

Veronica felt so strange, logically she knew he wasn't a person, but... he really did look it. She had just brushed off the resemblance, no one else was bothered by it, but knowing that she knew they could talk, laugh... and be so cute. Unlike Natasha, Veronica was a mother, and at an early age; all her children had 'flown the coop', and she had to admit that Pod bore a resemblance to her son, with his brown hair and thin frame. She turned her eyes back to the screen with a lot to think about.