Erlang Shen had, very clearly, argued against all of this nonsense.

It wasn’t often that his council was called for, or even that he could be found when it was wanted, but the Celestial Court has gotten ahold of him, and asked anyway:

“What shall we do with this new monkey, after the last three caused us such trouble?”

To a degree could the God of Hunting be scarily practical and sharp. “Kill it, and be done with the matter.” he had spoken, eyes glinting as one hand reached for the three-headed spear at his back, his hound’s fur rippling in excitement at the chance to shred a demon-

But no. No, of course not. They instead had decided that the new Mystic Monkey needed to be, all in a row: brought to the Court, set as a servant, assigned to the same damn stables that Sun Wukong himself had once wrecked, and made to perform petty chores and physical labor.

“I won’t be helping you when this one rebels too,” He had snapped, storming from the heavenly halls as the gaping deities gasped and gossiped in the furious wake of his pounding footsteps.

…now that he sees you lying in a little bed of straw and leaves, Erlang thinks back to that argument.

No one had told him that you were a cub.

Xiaotian huffs and points at you with a savage paw, golden eyes narrowed in distaste. “Not this one, my friend. Not when they’re still children. Let’s just talk to them.”

He moves closer, walking softly as to not set off you or his canine companion, before kneeling to your side- a tower of white and silver armor stares down, three bright eyes all fixed on your form.

A child. Not unlike those that he spent lifetimes saving from demons, from beasts, from floods. A displaced and lonely child.

A demon monkey child, but still.

“Hey, champ,” He says, voice gruff but not unkind. As he speaks, Xiaotian settles in the straw beside you, trying to fit his massive body in the tiny spread of hay without scaring you. “What’s your name?”