Making A Splash

Chapter 7

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Unlike when I’d been woken up by Felda early in the morning, and came out of it feeling like I was trying to swim my way out of quicksand, I woke up from my impromptu nap entirely on my own and felt not just well-rested, but fully refreshed and brimming with energy.

“Huh….” I said aloud as I lay there on my back, my arms and legs sprawled out across the ridiculously wide bed.

“Is this another cat power?” I asked the ceiling of Felda’s room. I got no answer. Not like I was expecting one. It seemed possible, to me anyway; cats were kind of known for sleeping on and off multiple times throughout the day, weren’t they? I couldn't remember the word for it, but I was sure Morgan would have.

Well, I guess I'd just have to see. Grunting slightly, I hopped up out of Felda’s bed, landing on my feet and poking around for my sandals. I hadn't changed out of my clothes to sleep, so I didn't need to get dressed, and soon I stepped back out into the little hallway that led to the main room. I once again took a moment to note the oddly placed bookshelf as I passed, then stepped down off the stairs, entering the tavern proper.

I found Felda once again cleaning one of the tavern’s tables as I approached her, which also struck me as odd. Hadn't she been doing that when we arrived? How long did it usually take her to do them all? I also didn't see Bart anywhere, but that wasn't odd at all, he probably had other stuff to do. He was a fisherman too, right?

“Where’d Bart go?” I asked, which Felda responded to with a startled yelp, spinning around to face me.

“Oh!” she gasped, putting a hand over her heart, letting out a laugh. “It's just you, Sam!”

“Sorry,” I said, scratching the back of my head with a sheepish smile. I hadn't even been trying to sneak up on her, but I guessed I was more light on my feet than I realized.

“I'm going to have to put a bell on you if you don't stop startling me,” Felda joked, recovering quickly from her surprise. At least, I hoped she was joking. Then, remembering that I'd asked a question, she motioned to the doors. “Bart's headed out onto the bay, he's got to bring in his own catch after all.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding, that made sense. Then, Felda followed up with a question of her own.

“What are you doing up again already?” Felda asked, looking me over. “Were you not able to get to sleep? It was the coffee wasn't it?”

“What?” I questioned her back, tilting my head. “No, no, I fell asleep right away. Why, how long has it been?”

Felda continued to give me a curious look before reaching onto one of her pockets, pulling out a palm-sized circular object made of what looked like gold.

“It's barely been an hour,” Felda answered, looking up and tucking what I realized was a ridiculously expensive-looking pocket watch back into her pocket.

“Huh, really?” I asked as I looked down at myself. “I feel like I just got a full night's sleep and then some.”

Then, realizing there were probably few things more suspicious than being confused about my own sleeping patterns, I cleared my throat and put on a grin, shrugging.

“Ah, I mean, obviously I do!” I spoke airily, waving a hand dismissively. “It's just a catkin thing, y’know? Honestly, I'm surprised I napped for a whole hour!”

Okay maybe I was overdoing it a bit, but I had just woken up, after all.

“I… see,” Felda said after a moment, nodding her head. “Well, Elle and Mel aren't going to be here for another hour themselves.”

“Oh,” I said, furrowing my brow. I guess that meant I had some free time then. I probably could have just gone right back to Felda’s room and laid back down, but I felt too energized to go back to sleep. Tilting my head, I looked up to Felda.

“D'you need any help?” I asked, and Felda's familiar smile returned, but she shook her head.

“Mmh, perhaps next time. I appreciate the offer, but I'm nearly finished here,” Felda explained, waving at the one remaining table with its stools still stacked atop it. “I'm sorry that I don't have any… anything for you to entertain yourself with, but if you give me a moment, I could maybe find something.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly at Felda's momentary hesitation. Had she been about to say “toys?” I was reasonably sure she was, but the real question was whether it was because she thought I was a child, or because she thought I was a cat.

It did make me stop and seriously think about the world I found myself in, and wonder what people actually did for fun. There were probably bards, right? And things like traveling acting troupes and street performers, but did this little village have any of those? Something else to look into later, at the moment I still had an hour to kill, and no clue how I was going to fill the time.

“Now I see why Bart's always carrying around that book,” I said, bringing a hand to my chin. Then, realizing I’d just answered my own question, I snapped my fingers. “Oh, duh!”

Turning to Felda, I pointed over my shoulder with a thumb.

“Do you mind if I poke through your bookshelf for a book to read while I wait?” I asked. I expected an answer right away, but Felda hesitated, only for a second, before her head lifted and she nodded.

“Oh, no, go right ahead,” she said, turning away to grab another chair from atop a table and turn it over, placing it down on the floor, speaking with her back turned to me. “I’m afraid you’ll probably find most of them dreadfully boring, but I think there are a couple of stories in there as well.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, leaving Felda to her work and making my way back to the hallway behind the bar.

I stood before the bookshelf, getting my first actual look at its contents. As I traced my eyes over the titles pressed into the sides or covers of the books, I once again experienced a moment of confusion as the words failed to resolve into readable text, until they suddenly did.

“Probably just tired…” I said, failing to convince even myself. Just another thing to worry about later. Shaking my head, I started actually checking out what sorts of books Felda had.

The first thing I noticed were the cookbooks, which accounted for about a third of the books on the shelves, and not just books on cooking seafood either. While I was interested in checking some of those out sometime, they didn’t seem that interesting to read, and I didn’t want to make myself hungry again, so I skipped the cookbooks and kept looking.

The next couple books I pulled out turned out to be historical records about various nations or kingdoms, including a couple on “the Kingdom of Torgard.” I was confused at first, because I was pretty sure Torgard was the name of the island too, but I eventually figured one was just named after the other. While those probably would have some useful information in them, they presented the same problem as the cookbooks, namely, they sounded pretty boring to read.

“Next,” I said, reshelving the large blue book with a golden turtle on the cover, kneeling down to get a look at the books lower down on the shelf. I passed over more histories, more cookbooks, and a couple of atlases and almanacs before I found something that actually piqued my interests. At first I thought they were just more history books, but realized they were actually collections of myths, legends, and folklore.

“Bingo,” I said, choosing one at random and pulling it from the shelf.

Tucking the book under my arm, I returned to the main room, where Felda was just finishing getting the last table set up. I moved to the secluded booth in the far corner half hidden by the stairs, Bart’s usual spot, and slid into it, lying sideways across the bench and propping my back up against the wall with the book in my lap.

The book I’d chosen turned out to be a series of stories about the various deities of this world, both major and minor, and the simple yet fanciful way it was written made it clear it was geared towards younger readers. I wondered why Felda would have something like this on her bookshelf, but I wasn’t going to complain, especially if it helped me kill an hour and fill in some of the blank spots in my knowledge of the world.

Skimming down the table of contents, several of the titles jumped out at me, but one in particular caught my gaze and held it there for much longer than the others.

“‘The Eternal Lovers,’ huh?” I mumbled, flipping to the indicated page. I intended to just take a quick peek to see what the gist of the story was, but quickly found myself getting engrossed in the tale. It told the story of two of the minor deities; Soliel, the Goddess of the day, and Sera, Goddess of the night, set during some vague period of time early on in the creation of the world before mortals existed. It was, very obviously, a love story, starting from when the two goddesses were bitter rivals who competed over which one’s chosen affinity was superior and which one deserved to have the most time allotted to them throughout the day.

This progressed into a grudging stalemate, and then, eventually, into a growing friendship, as each goddess had their eyes opened to facets of the other that they had previously overlooked. The story then finally blossomed into a full-on romance, complete with some overly flowery descriptions of the two expounding on the depths of each other’s beauty in passages that I was a little surprised could end up in a book for kids.

This wound up leading to the opposite problem from the start of the story, with the two goddesses now spending so much time together that the world was caught in a permanent twilight, causing some of the other gods to, unsuccessfully, attempt to split the pair up. It apparently got so bad that The Goddess of Love and War, one of the major deities, had to step in and show the two how neglecting their individual duties and focusing only on being with each other at all times was throwing the newly formed world out of order.

The story came to an end with the two having learned their lesson and resolving to share the day evenly between them, with the amount of time each one remained active fluctuating throughout the year, so that days were longer in the summer and shorter in the winter. The final line of the story was a passage explaining how the two come together every day at sunrise and sunset, embracing each other and savoring every second they had until they eventually part ways again, and by the end of it I was having trouble seeing the words on the page through the sudden tears in my eyes, despite myself.

“Sammie?”

A voice broke me out of the trance I’d slipped into, sliding deeper and deeper into the booth as I became fully engrossed in the story. Sitting up and blinking my eyes in an attempt to clear them, I found Elle standing at the edge of the booth.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, concern written all over her face, and I hurriedly brushed at my eyes, rubbing away the tears that hadn’t quite started to flow freely as I finished the story.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” I quickly assured her, holding up the book in my other hand. “I was just… reading something and it…it was…”

I stalled, too embarrassed to admit I’d nearly cried while reading a children’s fable, but Elle immediately grasped what I meant, cocking her head to look at the book I’d been reading.

“Ooooh, I know that book, my mother used to read it to me back home,” she said, smiling, then giving me a knowing nod. “I bet I know which story it was.”

“I… it wasn’t…” I tried in vain to work up some kind of defense, but Elle was relentless. At least she leaned forward and lowered her voice, if only slightly.

“It was Soliel and Sera, wasn’t it?” she asked, and I had no choice but to bite my lip and nod. Elle made a sympathetic awwing noise and nodded, reaching a hand out to help me up out of the booth. “Knew it. That one still makes me cry too.”

“Yeah?” I asked, taking the offered hand and sliding out of the booth and onto my feet, my eyes thankfully dry and no longer in danger of spilling over. I had been worried before that there was something off about my emotions since coming to this world, and took my heightened reaction to such a simple love story as just more evidence. “I, uh, I just hadn’t read it in a long time…”

I definitely couldn’t admit that it was my first time reading it, that would likely only raise questions I didn’t want to answer. Glancing around, I found Mel across the room at the bar, chatting with Felda. The two of them must have entered while I was too focused on the story’s conclusion to notice.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled to Elle, grabbing the book and skipping around her, hurrying past the bar to return it to the bookshelf. Then, instead of returning to the main room, I went back to Felda’s room, ending up standing in front of the tall mirror she had in the corner, staring at myself.

I was suddenly nervous, but at least I knew why. While the outing I’d agreed to was, on the surface, just to go shopping for some better-fitting clothes and maybe a few essential items I was missing, it was also going to mean I’d be spending an extended amount of time with two people much closer to my own age than Bart or Felda. Even if they’d both agreed ahead of time not to dig into the circumstances surrounding my past, there was still going to be an unavoidable amount of socializing involved, and as usual, the thought of that sent my mind racing.

“Different world, same problems, huh?” I asked my reflection bitterly, my hands tightly gripping the sides of the mirror. Could I just cancel? Tell them I wasn’t feeling up to it today? No, that would likely only make me feel worse about wasting their time, and I needed to buy something to wear other than the ill-fitting hand-me-downs. I asked myself if I’d prefer just wandering around the village trying different stores at random hoping they’d have what I needed, which, obviously, I wouldn’t.

So, I decided I was going to have to bite the bullet and go hang out with the nice elf girls who wanted to show me around town, and just pray I didn’t embarrass myself.

“Hey, it won’t be so bad,” I assured myself, combing my fingers and claws through my hair in a futile attempt to restore some order to it. “You’re a girl now too, right? That’s gota count for something, right?”

While that didn’t totally wipe away the rest of my nerves, it did make me feel a bit better, and by the time I finished fussing with my hair and took a step back, I felt much more composed and ready to tackle the task ahead of me.

But, for good measure, I spent an extra ten seconds looking into the mirror making various faces while pumping myself up just a little more.

Finally, I returned to the main room to join Elle and Mel.

The pair stepped away from the bar to greet me; Elle moved forward to sweep her arms around me and give me a squeeze, similar to how she’d done when she first saw me the night before, while Mel hung back, wearing a fractional smile on the half of her face that I could see, the other half-hidden by her long dark hair.

“There you aaaaare!” Elle giggled as she hugged me, and I was once again treated to the odd citrusy scent that seemed to exude from her. She stepped back, clapping her hands together and beaming down at me. “Ready to go?”

No, not at all! I screamed inside my head.

“Yeah, uh, almost,” I said, turning to Felda, who was half watching us from behind the bar, half poking through the bottles on her shelves, once again checking her stock. “Felda, can I get the rest of the money from last night?”

“Oh, of course,” she said, half turning and reaching under the counter, retrieving the familiar brown cloth sack of coins the patrons of the tavern had “donated” the previous night after my confrontation with Bentley. I still wasn’t thrilled about having them or using them, but I saw little point in being stubborn about it. Felda would never take them off me, and it would be impossible to get them all back to the people they’d come from, so, I snatched up the sack and stuffed it into my pockets, then nodded to Elle and Mel.

“Ready,” I proclaimed, and we set off from the tavern.

We left the docks and took the same road behind the tavern that Bart had led me down the day before, the only difference being that Elle also kept getting distracted by looking into the windows of the various bakeries we passed. We took the same turn at the corner intersection and in no time I found myself on the wide main street of the village of Rower’s Rest, once again marveling at the amount of people and carts passing by on the paved road.

“Okay!” Elle exclaimed, clapping her hands and turning to face me. “First things first, we need to get you some clothes that suit you.”

I looked down at my clothes, the rough tan-colored shirt with sleeves that threatened to slip down over my hands at any moment, and the dark brown pants that I had to keep rolled up to prevent the legs from dragging on the ground. The nicest looking thing I was wearing were my red leather sandals. By contrast, Elle and Mel’s outfits, for they could actually be called outfits, were much nicer.

Elle wore a light green dress that matched her darker green hair and complimented her lemon-yellow skin, with long detached sleeves that flowed down to her wrists, swishing about with every wild movement of her arms. There were patterns of leafy vines with yellow and pink flowers embroidered around the edges of the sleeves and the short hem of her dress, under which she wore a pair of thin white stockings and a pair of slippers made of some emerald-colored material that shined in the midday sun and which somehow seemed to resist becoming coated in dirt from the road as she walked.

Mel’s outfit was less flashy, but no less well-coordinated, consisting of a low-cut, dark-blue tunic with elbow-length sleeves, held in place by a tightly cinched, high-collared black leather vest which acted almost like a corset. The pants she wore were the same dark material as her vest and came to a stop just below her knees and just above her sturdy black boots.

“Agreed,” I said, looking up from my quick appraisal of their outfits. Then, I hastily put up a finger and added, “But I'm not wearing any dresses!”

“Awww!” Elle all but whined, causing Mel to let out a chuckle and pat her on the back.

“I told you,” Mel said with the smug satisfaction of someone who had just won a bet. She turned her eyes on me and gave me a reassuring nod. “You’re lucky I agreed to come along.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Elle said, pouting at her friend before looking back my way, the blinding smile back on her face. “That’s fine, for today, but I will get you in one eventually, you’re too cute not to!”

Just like when she’d said I would look adorable in their uniforms the night before, Elle’s words immediately flustered me, and by the time I had my thoughts together enough to think about uttering anything, even a “thank you,” we’d already moved on, the pair leading the way with me trailing behind them. The two shared a quiet discussion between themselves about where we’d be heading first, with Mel eventually taking the lead, and eventually bringing us to the front of one of the many tailor’s shops I remembered passing by with Bart.

Once inside the shop, with the door shutting out the din from the streets, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and looked around. The floor of the shop was very open, with most of what I saw on display being bolts of variously colored cloths in all sorts of materials I couldn’t name, but there were also several wooden mannequins stood up by the windows and against one wall, all wearing different outfits of wildly varying levels of ostentatiousness.

“This place feels too… expensive for me,” I muttered quietly as I finished glancing around. “This stuff all looks custom too…”

“Oh, don’t even worry about that,” Elle said, shaking her head and putting a hand on my back, guiding me towards the counter. “We’ll visit one of the other shops after for some less expensive everyday clothes, but you need a few nicer things that were made just for you, trust me.”

Well, I had no real argument against that, so I just nodded and stepped up to the counter. It was currently empty, but as we approached, a voice called out from behind the hanging curtain that blocked the open doorway to the back room.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment!” the voice, crisp and clear and slightly bassy, called out, and Elle giggled.

“Take your time, Dani, it’s just us!” Elle shouted back, cupping a hand around her mouth. Her words seemed to have the opposite effect, as the voice behind the curtain made a startled noise, and after a series of hurried clattering noises followed by a rhythmic jangling, a large woman burst out from the back room, beaming at the three of us.

The first thing I noticed was that she was another elf, having long pointed ears and pale pink skin that gradually darkened to a rich magenta from her elbows to her fingertips, dappled here and there with black freckles. As expected from a seamstress, even her work clothes looked nice: a breezy-looking loosely tied white silk shirt that was tucked into a high-waisted black skirt that went down to her ankles, under a pink apron with pockets stuffed full of bits of cloth and sewing supplies. Her hair was an impressive mass of pink curls that was long on top, but cut short at the sides, piled high and pulled into a huge braided ponytail that tumbled down her back, and her eyes were a deep amethyst that twinkled as she swept them over our group.

“Elle, my darling, you’re early!” the woman exclaimed, bustling over with her arms thrown wide, causing the collection of large silver bangles on her wrists to jangle again. Elle, mirroring the woman’s enthusiasm, shared a quick embrace that culminated in Elle bowing her head while the other elf placed a quick peck on her forehead. “How long has it been?”

“A week,” Mel said dryly.

“A whole week?” the woman said, aghast, moving over and taking one of Mel’s hands in both of hers. The other elf rolled her eyes, but still ducked her head down as the taller woman kissed her forehead as well. “You really must visit more often, you especially Melly dear, I don’t see nearly enough of you.”

“That’s because I don’t buy as many clothes as Elle,” Mel said, extracting herself from the woman and stepping back, leaving me in her direct path. The woman's eyes practically lit up as they settled fully onto me, and I felt myself shrinking back, but thankfully she only stepped up and held a hand to the center of her chest before extending it out towards me like she was handing me something.

“And you must be the little cat girl I’ve heard so much about,” she said, smiling sweetly. “My name is Danella Dewglass, but please, call me Dani.”

Brushing off the reminder that I was still the talk of the town, I contemplated how to respond to her greeting. She wasn’t holding her hand like she expected a shake, as it was her left hand that was extended, palm up and fingers together, similar to but not quite the same as what Peter had done earlier. At a loss for what else to do, I just copied the same gesture she had done, touching my chest then holding my hand out.

“Oh, I’m, uh, I’m Samantha Fisher, but just call me Sam,” I said. Behind Dani, I thought I saw Elle jerk suddenly, but my eyes were drawn back to the pink elf as she tittered, nodding towards my awkwardly outstretched hand.

“I’m sorry, I forgot, Elle told me you have little experience with elves, here,” she said, reaching out with her other hand and turning my hand over, then placing it over top of hers, very gently grasping it with her fingers. Then, slowly so I could follow along, she turned her arm over so that the positions were reversed, and my hand was under hers, then nodded her head. “And there, just like that. Easy, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, finally taking my hand back.

“Good, and now that the formalities are out of the way,” Dani said, her smile growing as she stepped forward, crushing me into a hug. “It is a joy to meet you Sam, what can I do for you today?”

Thankfully, she released me quickly, and didn’t kiss me on the forehead, but that hardly mattered, as I was already plenty flustered again just from how intense she was. She was like Elle, only cranked up to eleven, so much so that I found myself wondering if they were related in some way. Stepping back to give myself a little extra space, I glanced around Dani’s shop again.

“Uh, I need some clothes?” I said, unsure.

“Yes, yes, but what sorts of clothes, what styles are you partial to, what fabrics do you prefer, what are your favorite colors?” Dani bombarded me with questions, and I brought a hand to my chin, pondering them all. I knew what kind of clothes I liked to wear back on Earth, but I doubted I’d get anywhere asking for “loose t-shirts and baggy jeans” from this professional seamstress.

“I don’t… really know that much about clothes, but…” I muttered, stalling while I continued to think.

Did I really want to go right back to dressing the same way I always had, anyway? While I knew I wasn’t ready to try wearing anything as bold as some of the complicated-looking dresses I saw on display around the shop, that didn’t mean I couldn’t try something else out, something outside of my usual preferences.

And so, while idly poking around the shop at the various mannequins and their outfits, I found one that was wearing an ensemble consisting of a long sleeved purple coat on top of a black sleeveless shirt that had a wide neckline, almost like a tank top, except with a V-shaped cut in the center, loosely held shut with leather laces. I turned to Dani, who’d been following me in silence from a distance.

“Something like this,” I said, and Dani came closer to the mannequin in question. Then, to clarify, I added, “Not the jacket, just the shirt, and without any of the fancy embroidery, if that’s alright.”

“Ahh, I see,” Dani said, humming as she pulled the jacket down the mannequin’s arms slightly, looking from the shirt to me. “Yes, I can definitely have a few of these made up for you in a more simple style. How many were you thinking of ordering?”

“Well, I don’t know how many I’ll be able to afford, but I’d like to at least have one for every day of the week, so, seven?” I said, though I knew from experience I wasn’t likely to change my clothes nearly that often unless they got very dirty.

“Er…”

Dani made a noise and cleared her throat, causing me to turn from the mannequin to her, and I found her giving me an oddly strained smile.

“Did… you mean to say ‘five’, dear?” she asked patiently, and I nearly slapped myself in the face at my carelessness. Instead, I quickly played it off with a laugh.

“Oh, ah-ha, yes, that’s what I meant,” I said, bringing a hand to my forehead and sighing. “I’m sorry, I had a busy morning and I only just woke back up from a nap, yes, I meant to say five, of course.”

Dani laughed along and nodded understandingly, and I heaved a heavy mental sigh of relief. Honestly, how was I supposed to know this crazy fantasy world didn’t have the same number of days per week as back on Earth? That wasn’t something you just asked about! At the very least, it seemed like I’d dodged another bullet, as Dani quickly went back to sorting out what I wanted.

“Is cotton alright, or would you prefer wool for a bit of extra warmth?” she asked, and I glanced out the window at the brightly lit streets outside.

“Uh, cotton is fine for now, I can just buy a coat once it gets cold,” I said, glossing over the fact that there was no telling if I’d still be living in this village by the time the weather started to change.

“Of course,” Dani said, having produced a small slate and a piece of chalk at some point, scratching something down on it before waving to one of the shelves against the nearby wall which held several bolts of dyed cloth. “Here are a few samples of the cotton I have available, are there any colors you’re particularly fond of?”

I ran my fingers lightly over a roll of the soft cloth, careful of my claws, and looked over the various shades.

“Mmmh, I like these dark colors,” I said, pointing to a row of rolls near the bottom which contained a series of colors ranging from a pale gray to coal black, picking one in the middle of the row that was slightly lighter. “This one, maybe?”

“Ah, the sable, very well,” Dani said, adding something to the slate she held. “Any others?”

I opened my mouth to refuse, but reminded myself that I was supposed to be trying to push out of my normal boundaries. To that end, I reached a little higher, snagging the edge of a bolt of sky blue cloth.

“Maybe one or two of them in this color?” I ventured, taking Dani’s widening smile as a good sign.

“Oh, royal blue, always popular!” Dani said, enthusiastically adding the detail to her slate. “Is there anything else you’d like, any embellishments or patterns?”

“Uh, no, not this time,” I said, wary of ordering unnecessary additions, especially since I still wasn’t sure how much I was going to wind up spending in this store alone. “I guess that just leaves pants.”

I spent a few moments looking over the outfits on display for anything that might catch my eye, but none of the pants on display looked like something I'd want to wear, either because they were too overcomplicated and flashy, or simply looked too tight to be comfortable.

“What I wouldn't give for just a pair of baggy shorts…” I mumbled to myself.

“What was that, dear?” Dani asked, moving a little closer.

“Ah, nothing, just talking to myself,” I said, then, before she could step back again I held up a hand. “Actually, wait. If I described a type of clothing to you, could you make it?”

“Why, of course,” Dani said, holding her head high and beaming. “That's what I do.”

Bolstered by her confidence, I began excitedly describing exactly what I wanted.

“Okay, well, I want two, or, no, three pairs of pants, but I want them to be cut short, like…” I bent slightly, holding my hand just above my knee. “This long, and I want them loose, so they're easy to move in.”

“Ah, I see,” Dani said as she scratched rapidly at her slate with the chalk. “I did figure you for the more active type, so I take it you'll want them to be somewhat durable as well?”

“Uh, yes, but nothing too heavy or rough,” I said, and Dani hummed, tapping her chin before turning, motioning for me to follow.

“I have just the thing, here.” She led me to another rack of cloth samples, placing her hand on a folded stack of a beige, thickly knit fabric.

“This is hemp, blended with cotton,” Dani explained, and I raised an eyebrow, reaching out to feel the fabric with my fingers. It did indeed feel thicker than the pure cotton by itself, and a bit rougher, but not nearly as bad as I expected. “It will require some breaking in at first, but it’s incredibly durable for its weight while still being remarkably breathable. Anything made with it should last you a long time, no matter how active you are.”

“Huh… well, I’m sold,” I said, smiling, looking at the available colors. There were many darker shades, and my eyes were drawn to those first, but I also saw another bolt of a very rich, very dark blue color that I thought would pair well with the lighter blue I’d picked out for my shirts.

“I’ll take two in this black color here, and one in this dark blue,” I said, indicating the samples on the shelf to Dani.

“Oooh, the midnight blue, very good,” Dani said cheerfully as she noted my choices down. “Are there any other features you'd like?”

“Yes,” I said, breaking into a grin. “Pockets!”

“Well, yes, I was going to include pockets—” Dani started to say, but I shook my head.

“No no, not just the normal pockets, extra pockets,” I explained, reaching down and patting the sides of my legs, just about mid-thigh. “Right down here, the kind that are sewn to the outside, like a big pouch, you know?”

Dani seemed at a loss for words at first, but her mouth opened and her eyebrows raised in realization.

“Ah, like component pouches on an alchemist's coat?” she asked, directing me towards one of the mannequins I’d passed over before. It was wearing a very sturdy looking long coat made of brown leather that almost touched the floor, and as Dani walked over and pulled one of the sides open, I saw that the inside was dotted with half a dozen pockets large enough to fit a fist inside.

“Yes, exactly like that,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Except just two of them, and a little bigger than these.”

“Hmm, this is certainly a novel idea for a pair of pants, I’m quite interested to see the results,” Dani said, once again scratching away at her slate. “Will that be all?”

“Yup, I think so,” I said, nodding.

“Good, then if you’ll just step this way, I can get your measurements,” Dani said, reaching into her apron and producing a rolled-up measuring tape.

Nodding, I turned to follow her, catching sight of Elle and Mel across the shop. They looked like they’d been examining a few of the bolts of fabric, but when I looked over at them, I found them both glancing my way as I passed. When they noticed me watching them, they both averted their gazes with such speed that I was left confused, and more than a little suspicious.

Catching up to Dani, I followed her as she led me around the counter, lifting the curtain out of the way and ushering me into the back room.

The back of the seamstress’ shop was much less neatly arranged than the front had been. Not that it was a mess, but that it was an area that obviously wasn’t meant to present the same face as the front of the store. It was a workshop, and one that very clearly saw a lot of use, with multiple tables lined up against the walls, their surfaces covered with either paper patterns or articles of clothing in various stages of construction. The center of the room was occupied by a trio of mannequins also dressed in in-progress outfits held together by metal pins, as well as a raised circular platform, which Dani motioned for me to step up onto.

I did so, and she unraveled the tape measure, stretching it out between her fingers and stepping around behind me.

“Okay dear, now hold your back straight and let me…” She trailed off and I felt her laying the tape measure across my shoulders.

“Very good, and now, arms up.” She knelt, and her arms reached around my torso from behind, pulling the tape measure against my midsection. I heard her hum, and she released it again just as quickly. Moving with a speed and efficiency that left me a little dizzy, she circled me several times, taking measurements of every possible angle of every section of my body, noting down each one in turn. Then, before I knew it, she was finished.

Or so I thought, but when I started to step down from the platform, Dani stopped me, still holding the tape measure in one hand.

“Ah, we’re not quite done yet,” she said, looking at me expectantly, but I had no clue what she could be talking about, and she eventually noticed my confusion, letting out a light chuckle. “I mean I need you to remove your shirt, dear, I need to measure your chest.”

I blinked, feeling like I had suddenly missed a beat, and tilted my head, staring up into Dani's bright purple eyes.

“Huh?” I asked, certain that I must have misheard her.

Smiling sympathetically, Dani simply lowered her voice and repeated the request.

“I need to measure you without your shirt in the way. It will only take a moment, I promise.”

“Is that really necessary?” I asked, and Dani pursed her lips at my question.

“Well, yes, if you’re going to be fitted for proper undergarments,” Dani replied matter-of-factly, and I instantly felt the first hints of heat rising to my cheeks. I tried to say something, but found myself at a loss for words, so I was left just standing there with my mouth slightly open, and Dani once again picked up on my distress.

“Is something the matter, Sam?” she asked, her brows arched in concern.

That was enough to snap me out of my stupor and shake my head vigorously.

“No no, I’m fine! I just… uh…”

I was being stupid, this was obviously going to come up at some point. Whether I was fully ready to address it or not, my body was radically different from the one I was used to, and not just because it had cat ears and a tail. While I didn’t exactly know what women wore under their clothes in actual historical times, I could probably hazard a guess, and with how bizarrely advanced in some aspects this world seemed to be, a bra would be the least surprising thing to discover existed here.

And, whether I liked it or not, I had enough sense to know that if I actually was going to take up running anytime soon, I was going to need one.

“Right, let’s just… get this over with quickly,” I said, sighing and turning my back to Dani. My cheeks were already on fire, and I knew it was likely only about to get worse. As much as I really wanted to believe otherwise, I knew it was unlikely that I could have totally avoided being seen naked by anyone else ever for as long as I lived in this world, especially considering I already knew baths in this village were apparently communal, not to mention the fact that I shared a room with Felda.

I guess it's better to get it out of the way now, at least.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the bottom of my borrowed shirt and pulled it up over my head, having to tug my arms out of the long sleeves, before dropping it in a loose pile on the pedestal in front of me. Standing with my back straight, I lifted my arms and tried not to shiver at the sudden chill.

“Alright, go ahead,” I said, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the sensation of Dani pressing the measuring tape against my body, but it never came. Hesitantly, I lowered my arms again.

“Umm…” I began to speak, and heard Dani start behind me.

“Ah, my apologies!” She sounded more off-balance than I felt, like she'd been completely thrown off her rhythm, but I resisted the urge to turn around and look at her as she continued.

“I hope you do not take offense to my asking, but… how old are you, dear?”

I furrowed my brow, wondering what that had to do with anything, and turned my head halfway to answer.

“Uh, nineteen, why?”

I could only see her out of the corner of one eye, but that was enough to see the way her head tilted and her expression shifted at my answer. She seemed even more surprised and incredulous than Bart had been.

“Oh,” was the first thing she managed to say once she composed herself, followed up by a giggle as she tried to get back on track. “Funny, that’s nowhere close to what either of the girls guessed.”

“What?” I asked, though I immediately realized what she meant, and narrowed my eyes, asking the obvious follow up question before I could stop myself, “How old did they think I was?”

“Ah, well, Mel had assumed you to be as old as… sixteen, at most?” Dani’s voice was strained, and I could already tell she didn’t think she should be the one telling me this. I felt my brow furrowing and, when she didn’t continue on her own, I sighed.

“And Elle?”

It was the only question left to ask, and Dani stalled as long as she could before, finally, leaning forward and lowering her voice, giving me the answer.

“Her estimation was… fourteen.”

“What?!” I shouted, my voice going so high it cracked and became an outraged squeak. Embarrassment be damned, I’d spun around to face Dani, scrutinizing her face for any signs that she’d been pulling some kind of terrible, obtuse joke, but as far as I could tell she looked completely serious.

“Ah, is everything okay back there?” Elle’s concerned voice drifted in from just outside the curtain that blocked off the front room from the back.

Dani must have known what I was about to do even before I did, because she tried to reach out to put a hand on my shoulder, but I was already hopping down off the platform and stomping towards the curtain before she could stop me. Grabbing the edge of the fabric, I shoved it aside and earned a yelp of surprise from Elle, who’d been hovering just outside the doorway.

“You thought I was fourteen?” I asked, or rather, demanded from the stunned and wide-eyed elf girl.

“A-ah, uh, w-well…” Elle stammered, taking a step back and throwing her hands up. She held my glare for several seconds before her eyes rolled up, very pointedly staring at the ceiling as she worked to force out an answer, her cheeks taking on a green tinge for some reason. “Well, I… certainly don’t anymore…”

Behind her, further into the main room of the shop, Mel, who had always been the more taciturn of the two, began cackling so hard she doubled over, having to put a hand on the figure next to her to steady herself. With a chill running up my spine that had nothing to do with the fact that I was, to my horror, still topless, I realized another person must have entered the store after I’d left. They were one of the ubiquitous druids, clad head to toe in a uniform of brown and green robes, though their hood was down, and their face was covered by a wooden mask with vine-shaped inlays carved into it, and large, round, glass lenses for eyes that gave the whole thing an appropriately surprised-looking expression. Their head was, thankfully, turned fully away from the spectacle I was making of myself, but they were very clearly fidgeting uncomfortably, while Mel just continued to heave with laughter.

Feeling like I was blushing from the ends of my ears to the tips of my toes, I yanked the curtain back into place and stumbled back from it, pressing my hands against my eyes and letting out a very growl-like groan of frustration.

Eventually, I sighed, using my hands to push back any hair that had fallen into my face and spinning on my heels, facing the very apologetic-looking Dani and forcing a smile onto my face.

“So, about those measurements?”

■

“I’m soooooooorry,” Elle said, for the fifth, or maybe sixth, time, really dragging it out in hopes that it would be more effective.

“Mmmgph…” I grunted, my arms tightly crossed, my back pressed against the wooden back of the bench we were currently “resting” on. As soon as I’d finished getting my measurements taken, I’d tugged my shirt back on, thanked Dani profusely, and given her the first third of the payment for my order, which now included five pairs of “proper supportive undergarments”. I didn’t have enough on me to pay for the whole thing at once, but it was common in her line of work to take only a portion of the payment at first, giving me plenty of time to pay for the rest once I’d actually earned it. Then, I rejoined Elle and Mel in the front room, the druid I’d seen before having vacated the store entirely. We left the shop and, with Mel wordlessly leading the way, eventually ended up in a circular park area, with a number of benches arranged around a small fountain, shaded by several trees. I dropped into the bench opposite the pair, and since then, several minutes had passed in silence, with nobody saying anything except—

“I mean it Sammie, I’m really reeeeally sorry!” Elle said, for the sixth, or maybe seventh, time. She sounded so very genuinely distraught and apologetic that it was making it hard for me to keep up my grumpy brooding at the opposite end of the bench from the pair. “I didn’t mean anything by it, you’re just so… tiny.”

“Mmmrghph…” Well, I couldn’t really argue with that, especially the way I was sitting. I was slightly curled up in my seat, my small frame allowing me to hold my knees in front of me and plant my feet on the bench, blocking out the street from my view. My ears were pinned back against my head, and I was aware of my tail thrashing behind me, but felt completely unable or unwilling to stop it.

“And, you gota admit, you didn’t really give us a lot to work with.”

That was Mel, who, in contrast to her friend, didn’t seem the least bit flustered or upset by the situation. If anything, she seemed to be more unguarded and emotive than her usual cool demeanor, sitting with her arms spread across the back of the bench and a smile on her half covered face.

I kept my reply to barely a grunt that time, as I also couldn’t dispute that. By their own admission, none of them had ever spoken to a catkin before, and barely interacted with the few they had seen, so all they had to go off of was my physical features and the way I’d interacted with and around them. And, I begrudgingly admitted, I didn’t think I’d exactly acted as a bastion of maturity since meeting them. My sincere offer to help Elle with the dishes could easily be mistaken for a childish request made in an attempt to be helpful, as could my stubborn refusal to accept the money donated by the tavern patrons. Hell, just before we set out Elle caught me almost weeping because of a children’s fable.

With all that, I came to the conclusion I’d already half formed while still brooding in the back room with Dani, getting my measurements. I couldn’t blame them, at all. So, I finally turned my head, still wearing the last of what I hoped was an angry scowl but, with how I knew my new face looked, was probably more of a grumpy pout, and met Elle’s gaze.

The elf girl’s eyes were huge, and glistened even in the shade as she struggled not to outright start crying at my stoney silence. She was sitting on her knees on the bench, and when she saw me looking, she bit her lip and clasped her hands together in front of her, boring into me with the full force of her sheer, undiluted sorrow and remorse for what was, in all honesty, just a silly misunderstanding at most.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Yeah, there’s no way I can stand up to that.

With a sigh, I lowered my legs and came out of my scrunched position, sitting up on the bench, taking a moment to stretch out the soreness from the awkward position, before fixing my eyes on a suddenly expectant-looking Elle. If I didn’t know better (which, I realized I didn’t), I’d say her own pointed ears were twitching as she waited for me to speak.

“Alright, alright,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s fine, I’m not actually that mad. Anymore.”

“Really?” Elle squeaked, scooting halfway across the bench on her knees, hands still clasped but eyes somehow going even wider.

“Yeeeeees,” I sighed again, bracing myself. “I forgive you, and I’m sorry for—oomph!”

I didn’t get to finish my own apology for blowing up at them or making a scene before I was almost tackled right off the bench by Elle, who threw her arms around me and crushed me against herself.

“Thaaaank yoooou!” she all but sobbed into my hair, her relief that she hadn’t seriously offended me palpable as she squeezed me. I wanted to further assure her that it really was all fine, but unfortunately, I currently couldn’t breathe. When I tried patting her on the back to signal her to release me, she mistook it as me simply returning the embrace, and started patting my back as well.

Well… I guess this is how I die… again.

“Elle, I think she gets it, let her up before she passes out,” Mel said, coming to my rescue. The pressure was released and I quickly pulled my head out of Elle’s midsection, gasping for air.

“Ah, eheheh, s-sorry…” Elle said while I caught my breath, her cheeks once again adopting that hint of green I’d seen back at the shop. I realized, eventually, that she was blushing, as she tried to explain herself.

“I just… I really didn’t want you to think we’d been insulting you or talking about you behind your back,” Elle said, one of her hands reaching up and starting to fiddle with a bit of her slightly disheveled green hair.

“Well, we were,” Mel said, and Elle’s mouth popped open in shock before Mel laughed and waved her hand. “Talking about you, I mean. Nothing bad, like Elle says, but just trying to figure you out, like everyone else. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the hottest gossip to hit this town in a while.”

I huffed back at Mel, very briefly wondering if I liked this more open, chatty version of her than the usual, but shook off the petty thought and sighed.

“Yeeeeah, fuck, you’re right,” I grumbled, glancing sidelong at the street before us. Sure enough, even in the relatively secluded little park, it wasn’t hard to catch people staring at us as they passed, no doubt scrutinizing everything they’d just seen. “I’m sorry too, for overreacting back there. That was probably not a good first impression to make on a friend of yours.”

“Who, Dani?” Mel asked, smirking. “She’ll be fine, you’re not the first person who’s caused a scene in her shop, though usually it’s about the price of silk, or whether or not someone’s expensive new cloak is ‘cerulean’ like they asked for, or merely ‘cobalt,’ not a furious cat girl flashing her customers.”

“Uuuugh, don’t remind me,” I groaned, dropping my face into my hands. “I really don’t know what I was thinking, barging out there like that, but I was just so angry all of a sudden. Still kind of am, not at you, but just… myself, the whole situation, blegh.”

Before I could fully start sinking into my brooding, Elle’s voice, timid and quiet, reached one of my ears.

“Would… would you like one of us to pet you?”

It was such an odd and out of nowhere question that it fully pulled me out of my slump, and I blinked up at Elle, my brow furrowed.

“What?” I asked, and Elle, still freshly recovered from thinking she’d gravely offended me by vastly underestimating my age, flinched back slightly.

“Sorry, sorry! Is it rude for me to ask? It is, isn’t it?” Elle hastily backpedaled, scooting even further away across the bench than she had after she finished hugging out her apology. “I don’t exactly know how it works, but I've heard that it's supposed to help calm you down when you’re stressed, right?”

Is it?!

I kept myself from expressing the question out loud, thinking back on the few times I’d had my head affectionately pet by Felda. It definitely did make me feel calm, and comfortable, and perfectly at ease with the world and everything in it, for however long the contact lasted, in a way that was almost as good as eating a nice big piece of fish.

Hmm…

Well, Bart did say I didn’t need to try so hard to put up appearances with them.

“W-wait,” I said, holding a hand up but not quite reaching out after Elle, causing her to pause. Behind her, Mel tilted her head, also looking at me, and I was certain I could also still feel the eyes of the other park goers at my back, but I did my best to shut those out. “I think… that would help, yes. If you want to, I mean.”

I wasn’t physically capable of meeting their gazes as I offered to let myself be pet like an actual cat, but I could see them out of the corner of my eye, exchanging glances. Mel shrugged, nudging Elle with her shoulder, but the green-haired elf shook her head. After an exchange that seemed to be carried out entirely in knowing looks and little gestures, Elle stood up from the bench, leaving the space next to Mel empty.

Confused, but catching on to what they wanted, I slid across the bench to take the spot Elle had just vacated, and once I had, she settled back down on my opposite side, placing me between the pair. I expected Elle to literally jump at the chance I’d offered her, but as she sat beside me, she kept her hands firmly in her lap, just kicking her legs out in front of her and looking up at the shade trees overhead. Following her gaze, I realized I could see small birds flitting about between the branches. A light breeze blew in from the distant shore, gently rustling the leaves overhead and bringing with it the subtle scent of the sea, mixed with the various other smells of the village.

Finally, while I was distracted, Mel’s hand moved from its spot, resting on the back of the bench behind me, to settle down on the top of my head, right between my ears.

I started purring immediately, resting my back against the bench and letting the warm, inexplicably relaxing feeling of Mel’s fingers gently scratching against my scalp spread, slowly seeping down from my head to fill my entire body. I closed my eyes, and, for a moment, thought about nothing. Worries about whether or not I’d ever return to my homeworld were gone, confusion and concerns about my unfamiliar body were immaterial, and I wanted for nothing at all, except for Mel to keep scratching that particular spot next to my left ear, yes, that one, right there…

Slowly, the motion of Mel’s fingers ceased, but before I could think to complain, she removed her hand, and it was replaced by another. Elle’s, I realized, belatedly. Her fingers were more slender, but she was more enthusiastic, roaming around my scalp in search of the perfect spot, which I was all too happy to guide her to by simply tilting my head this way and that until she found it, my purring revving up to unprecedented levels as she dug in.

At some point, while I was deep in the throes of my relaxation, Elle and Mel began speaking quietly to each other.

“See, I told you you didn’t need to worry so much.”

That was Mel. I clearly recognized her voice, but it had taken on an odd quality. I couldn’t find the words to describe how I knew that it was different, I simply knew that it was, and it reminded me of when the same thing had happened the day before while I was out with Bart. Claire had talked Bart into underpaying for my sandals and paying her the rest later when I wasn’t around, and had done so right in front of my face, but had acted like there was no way I could have heard her.

“I knoooow, I just didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by asking too early.”

Elle’s answer came with the very same strange distortion, whispered from somewhere just above my head.

“Well, she looks plenty comfortable now,” Mel said, and I could hear the smile in her voice, and felt her move beside me. One of her fingers reappeared, briefly scratching at the back of my head just above my neck before stopping again. “Still, can you believe it? That she’s really only a year younger than me?”

Ah, right, that had come up. During the short period after I’d returned to the back room with Dani, I asked her how old Elle and Mel were. I wasn’t exactly sure what I hoped to gain from finding out, but I very nearly ran right back out to yell at them a second time when I learned that Mel was only twenty, while Elle was twenty one.

“I don’t know,” Elle said, and I flicked one of my ears at her in annoyance, not that she noticed. “If she’s lying, it’s such a high number to lie about, I can’t see why she’d try. But if she’s not…”

“If she’s not, that means she’s not just ‘some cute kid that Felda took in,’ she’s someone our own age, someone you can actually become friends with.” Mel provided the answer Elle seemed to have trouble voicing. “Honestly, I thought you’d be thrilled.”

“I am, I am, it’s just… well… doesn’t her being our age make this a little…” Elle cleared her throat, and I could feel her moving, doing something beside me, but I couldn’t tell what. When she spoke again, her voice was even quieter. “I mean, for starters, I would’ve thought you’d be jealous, seeing me treat anyone but you like this.”

Ah, she’d been motioning at me, practically falling into her lap while she scratched and pet my head like I was an actual housecat. That made sense, we were probably making quite a scene on that park bench, but what else had she just said? She thought Mel would be jealous? Why would Mel be jealous of this, unless—

Oh.

Opposite me, Mel was moving in her seat. There was a stifled hissing, snorting noise, that I identified as Mel straining to contain a laugh, probably to avoid disturbing me. Eventually, she got herself under control again, and scooted a little out of her corner of the bench, closing the distance between her and Elle and narrowing the space I had to fit between them.

“Oh, shut up, you evil witch,” Mel hissed through her teeth at Elle, her tone light, almost playful even. “Anyway, I don’t think so. You said it’s different for them, the way they express their emotions? They’re a lot more physical, especially with people they trust, so this is basically just a hug, right?”

Even I thought that was maybe pushing it a little, but I wasn’t about to tell Mel that. Not just because I was now completely certain this was a conversation I both wasn’t supposed to be hearing, and also one they thought I was totally incapable of hearing, but because I had no clue how to broach that subject.

And I had a feeling I was about to have other things to worry about.

“I know, I know, but I’m still worried about making her uncomfortable…” Elle’s voice, full of worry, trailed off. Her hand had stilled over time, and was no longer scratching vigorously, but was still planted firmly on top of my head, lightly and gently petting through my hair with the tips of her fingers.

“Tsh… you’re so cute when you’re overthinking…” Mel’s voice, much lower and much nearer than it had been before, dripped with something I dared not identify, and made me certain that I absolutely needed to get up off of that bench as soon as possible. Unfortunately, my bones still felt like they’d been turned to jelly, so the best I could do was stir between the suddenly much-closer pair of elves and open my mouth to protest.

“Mmmrow…”

Okay that was… definitely much more of some kind of grumbly meow than it was any actual words, but it got the job done, and I felt Mel jerk back slightly, giving me a bit of breathing room back. When she spoke again, her voice was now the one tinged with worry.

“Uh… are you sure she can’t speak Elven?”

Speak what?

“I mean, she said she’d never met an elf before you or me, why would she?” Elle answered in a rush, then gently cleared her throat, and when she spoke down at me, the bizarre, inexplicable anomaly was gone and her voice was back to what I considered to be normal. “Uh, Sammie?”

I opened my eyes, then winced and shut them again, slightly unused to the glaring brightness of the sunny summer day after lounging so long with my eyes closed. Carefully, I opened them again, holding a hand up to block the light as I glanced from Elle to Mel, and back again.

“Mmm… what?” I croaked, my throat feeling a bit sore and dry. Idly, I wondered if that was because of how hard I’d been purring the whole time, or just because it was hot out and I was getting thirsty.

“Are you… feeling better?” Elle asked, only barely skipping a beat as she helped me sit up straight.

Now, that was an interesting question. I tried to actually take stock of how I was feeling. The prolonged session of head scratching and gentle petting had definitely helped drive out the last vestiges of negative emotions I’d been harboring, and I felt absolutely no lingering resentment towards the pair for the misunderstanding. On the contrary, I was just as glad that we happened to be peers; I’d had my own private worries that since the two of them were elves they might be, like, hundreds of years old, with little need or want to become friends with someone who almost literally fell into their lives.

“Yeah,” I said, putting on a small smile and hoping I sounded genuine. “I feel much better.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, I was feeling better than I had been before our little break, and the worries I’d discarded stayed gone even after we got up from the bench and started walking again.

On the other hand, I now had two new things to worry about instead. If I interpreted what I’d been hearing right, Elle and Mel appeared to be in some sort of relationship, and I had no idea how huge of a secret that might be. I had no reason to believe the people of this village, or even the people of this nation, would have anything against two girls kissing on a park bench, especially after what I’d read in that children’s fable book, but you could never be too careful. I certainly wasn’t about to go asking them, or blabbing about it, until I had more information.

Then, there was the other problem. The fact that I’d, once again, heard quite a lot of stuff I wasn’t supposed to, and this time it was even through what was supposed to be a language barrier. Elle and Mel had apparently been speaking in “Elven” during the entire conversation, which expressed itself to me in their voices sounding subtly off, but still otherwise entirely comprehensible. Putting aside the fact that, try as I might, I seemed to have a natural knack for eavesdropping; how in the hell was I able to do that, and what would happen if anyone else found out?

Ah well, I couldn’t do anything about either problem at the moment, so I just hopped off the bench and stretched the stiffness out of my muscles, while Elle and Mel did the same, and then we began to walk again. Now that I wasn't keeping my head down due to a mix of anger and embarrassment, I was able to actually appreciate the beauty of the area as I followed the pair out of it.

The park consisted of two circular rings of bare earth that had been left unpaved, one inner and one outer, with four paths that cut through them at even intervals like cardinal directions on a compass, with the small fountain in the center. With no small amount of delight, I noticed that the benches that were placed around the edges of the rings, including the one we’d been sitting on, were not simply crafted furniture assembled from cut wood, but actually seemed to have been grown straight out of the ground itself and sculpted into the shape of a bench. The trees that grew from the earth behind them gave each one just the right amount of shade, and I could now see not just the little birds flitting between their branches, but also the occasional squirrel darting up or down the trunks of the trees. There was even a small cluster of rabbits gathered in a loose pile around the base of one tree, that didn’t so much as twitch an ear as we passed.

Just as we were about to exit the park, we encountered a row of bushes practically overflowing with eye-catching pink and blue flowers that I couldn't help but pause to take a quick whiff of. As I did, one of the flowers moved, and what I realized was a butterfly of the same color scheme flitted into the air.

I stood, watching it flutter away for several seconds, before a sentiment practically forced its way out of my mouth.

“Sometimes I still can't believe this place is real,” I said, causing Elle and Mel to glance back at me, shared expressions of confusion on their faces. I hunched my shoulders up a little, embarrassed, as I hadn't really meant to say that out loud, but after how relaxed I’d been on the bench I forgot to keep my guard up and let the sentiment slip out.

Oh well, I'd already said it, might as well finish the thought.

“Not just this park, I mean,” I said, closing the distance between us and starting to walk again. “This village too, and the area around it. The fields, the forest, the mountains, the sea, they're all so… nice.”

Elle and Mel were walking beside me, and Elle was still giving me a look as she spoke.

“Is this your first time seeing what it's like down here?” she asked, and almost immediately followed it up with a squeak, her eyes going wide and her hands covering her mouth.

“I'm sorry, I forgot, I didn't—” The apologies came spilling from her mouth like a waterfall, and I quickly put my hands up to stem the tide.

“It's alright, it's fine!” I assured her, with just as much urgency, then sighed. I'd been getting a little ahead of myself, and that was a convenient reminder that my true origins and reason for being in this world were a huge secret, one that would likely stand in the way of making any real friends until I figured out how to broach the subject. Not that I even knew the reason I was here in the first place.

“Damnit…” I cursed under my breath, taking a deep breath to clear my mind. I didn't want to leave Elle and Mel hanging on that sour note, so I turned back to them, speaking plainly.

“Yes,” I said, trying to not let my face shift as I answered. “It is my first time, seeing all this.”

Maybe wording it that way was slightly misleading, but it was the truth. I just left out the fact that I was seeing everything in this world for the first time, barring all the stuff that was suspiciously similar to what I was used to on Earth.

Leading the way again, Elle cautiously accepted my implied offer to continue the line of conversation.

“I guess it’s easy to take all that stuff for granted when you see it every day, but you’re right, there’s a lot of beauty to be found down here,” Elle said, glancing at the park we’d left behind, then turning and gazing into the distance, where a bit of the mountains were visible above the rooftops of the village. She smiled, and looked back down at me. “I’m glad you’re getting to see it now.”

“Yeah…” I agreed, tilting my head back and staring into the picturesque blue sky above us, a matching smile spreading across my face as it was warmed by the sun. “I am too.”

We walked in silence for another few moments, before Mel chimed in from Elle’s other side.

“So… is your family name really ‘Fisher?’” Mel asked, causing Elle to scoff and lightly swat her shoulder. “What? You were thinking it too, I saw it!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, as I distinctly recalled Elle having some sort of reaction when I introduced myself to Dani, but I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.

“Yes, that really is my name,” I said, once I’d composed myself enough to stop snickering.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mel said, shaking her head with a smirk. Only Elle didn’t seem to find the humor in it, and her face remained serious as she looked down at me with concern.

“Are you sure it’s safe to go around telling everyone that?” Elle asked, and the gravity of her tone was enough to give me pause. I remembered Bart mentioning something similar earlier; that my name might lead people to assume things about me or my past, but I couldn’t see how that might be dangerous.

“Uh… yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked, and Elle only appeared to grow more nervous, biting her lip and furrowing her brows.

“Because, won’t that make it easy for the… for anyone looking for you to find you?” Elle lowered her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper as she spoke, and I was once again taken aback by her seriousness. I really wished I could just come out and ask Elle and Mel, or Felda and Bart, what exactly they thought my background was, just because it sounded a lot more interesting than the truth. I’d been forming my own idea based on the bits and pieces I’d been able to pick up so far, and Elle’s question finally helped me tie it together into a coherent image. They thought I was a member, or maybe a pet, of some big important family named Fisher, living in whatever vague region they were always referring to as ‘’up there,’’ who had escaped or run away or something like that, and was now hiding out from some unknown pursuers.

I couldn’t help but laugh again, which did not seem to ease Elle’s concerns at all. Shaking my head, I composed myself and reached up to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said, smiling in an attempt to put both of them at ease. “Trust me. Nobody’s looking for me.”

“O-oh…” Elle said, not at all as appeased by my words as I thought she’d be. “I see, well, that’s… that’s good, excuse me a moment.”

With that, she dropped back several paces, leaving me and Mel to walk ahead while she lagged behind, her face clouding over with an unreadable mix of emotions. I looked up at Mel, who glanced from Elle down to me.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, and Mel’s eyebrow arched up, before she quickly shook her head, stepping sideways to close the gap that Elle had left and placing a hand on top of my head.

“No, no, you’re fine,” Mel said, shaking her head and giving me a few quick pats. “I think she just took that the wrong way, it’s not your fault. I’ll talk to her when we get to the tailor’s, it’s just up ahead.”

Mel nodded forward, and I peered across the street to the building she was indicating: a small shop just before the corner, with a sign hung above its door bearing the image of a pair of sewing needles crossed in front of a spool.

We entered the small shop together, followed by Elle a few moments after. It was similar, in some ways, to Dani’s shop, except there was much less variety in both the colors and styles of the clothes on display. All that were available were very simple items: short and long sleeved shirts and tunics, aprons, simple dresses without much decoration, and pants so plain as to almost be uniform, and everything seemed to come only in shades of white, beige, or brown.

Behind the short counter was a plain looking man with light-brown hair and a well-trimmed beard, as well as a much older woman sat upon a wooden chair tucked into one corner, both of whom had looked up at our entrance, and kept on looking as we approached.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” the man said, before seeming to remember where he was and clearing his throat, smiling at us. “Ah, pardon me, welcome, come in, anythin’ I can do for you folk?”

Mel looked down at me, and I nodded, motioning for her to step away and check in on Elle, the two of them edging to one corner of the shop and beginning a hushed conversation while I turned back to the man behind the counter.

“Yeah, uh, I just need a few sets of clothes that’ll fit me,” I said, and the man leaned a little further over the counter, giving me a more thorough look up and down.

“Mmh, aye, I can see that. C’mere, let’s have a look at’cha,” the man said as he circled the counter, removing the measuring tape that had been draped over his shoulders and taking only a few cursory measurements before nodding. “Aye, we have a few sets that’ll fit ye, but you’re cuttin’ it close, small as ya are.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I simply didn’t, following the man as he moved to one wall, pulling a crate down from a shelf and rifling through a stack of folded garments. He produced a plain off-white tunic with short sleeves and held it out in front of me. It would be a bit on the long side, but it was clearly a better fit than the oversized shirt I was currently wearing. Nodding, he laid the first over his arm and then pulled down another crate, once again rummaging inside until he pulled out a small pair of plain beige pants. These, as opposed to the shirt, looked like they’d be a bit of a tight squeeze, but that would no doubt be preferable to the extremely loose fit of the borrowed pants I was already wearing.

“Seems yer in luck, lass,” the man said, after poking through both crates. “I’ve got a half dozen of each left over from a batch deal that fell through, willin’ to let ‘em go for six shells a piece, or I’ll cut you a deal if you buy the whole lot, only ten clams.”

I hummed, going over the price in my head, and immediately realized he’d just tried to pull the most obvious scam on me, since buying all twelve of them at six shells each would only come out to seven clams and two shells. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to let slip that I’d caught on so quickly. When Felda and Bart had been surprised by my ability to do simple math I didn’t think much of it, but if this guy thought he could rob me just because… because I was a catkin? Well, whatever the reason, he had another thing coming. I put on as wide a smile as I could and tilted my head to the side, flicking one of my ears.

“Uuuhm, I duno, that’s pretty high…” I hummed, making a show of tapping a finger against my chin and looking up at the ceiling and pouting. “How about… eight clams?”

There, that was closer to the actual cost at six shells each, plus eight extra to round it up, surely that was enough to—

“No chance, lass,” the man said, shaking his head, and I felt my eyes narrowing. He held up the shirt he had draped over his arm, pinching it between his fingers. “This here is high quality cotton, soft as clouds, from the backs of Torgard’s finest sheep. In fact, I’d be mad to let ‘em go for anything’ less than twelve clams.”

I tried to keep my face impassive, but I felt my tail beginning to flick behind me as my annoyance mounted. It was one thing to try and fool me by being tricky with the numbers, but this guy must have taken me for an idiot if he thought I didn’t know where cotton came from.

I hadn’t really wanted to get into a haggling match, especially over something so simple as some plain clothes, but now I was feeling stubborn, and didn’t want to let this guy feel like he’d gotten one over on me.

So, I crossed my arms, straightened my back, and bared my teeth a little as I spoke.

“Five clams,” I stated flatly, my tail all but thrashing behind me. Then, I recalled something that had come up when I was discussing payment for my tailored clothes with Dani, and I held up a finger. “Plus an extra if you can have them delivered.”

That would bring the total up to what he’d get if he’d taken five clams each instead of six, without any of the extra I’d been willing to part with before. Probably a little less than they were worth, but he’d really gotten on my nerves.

The man’s face was starting to go a little red, and he opened his mouth far too quickly to have actually thought my counter offer over, but before he could speak the old woman in the corner shouted over him, her voice cutting the air like a whipcrack.

“Oh, let the lass have ‘em, Tim! It’ll be years before any of the village tots are big enough to need ‘em and you’ve been tryin’ to get rid of those old things for months.” The old woman admonished the man, Tim, without even getting up from her chair. When I turned to look at her, the fierce glare she was leveling at the man I assumed to be her son melted into a sweet smile as she met my eyes, inclining her head.

“Hush, ma!” the man, Tim, shot back petulantly, springing to his feet and motioning an arm at me. “She’s one’a them catfolk, a noble’s brat! She can afford it!”

“Hey!” I protested at the notion that I was either a noble or a brat.

“You don’t pay that fool boy ‘a mine any mind, little miss,” the woman said, and I turned back to face her. “I heard about you from ol’ Alfy, at the apothecary, and we’d be happy to help out a lass down on her luck, wouldn’t we, Tim?”

“Uuuh… oh!” I realized she meant Alfred, the old man who Bart had bought some medicine from the day before, who had given me a few pieces of butterscotch candy before I left. I still had the other one in my pockets, come to think of it. I smiled back at the old woman and nodded. “Thank you, uh, tell him I said ‘hi’ next time you see him.”

Feeling much more reassured about undershooting the price of the clothes after he’d tried to scam me twice, I faced forward again, finding Tim looking much more subdued than he had been moments before when he was arguing with his mother. With a sigh, he nodded and knelt down, beginning to collect the garments from the crates.

“Aye, aye, six clams it is then, and I’ll have one of me boys bring ‘em ‘round to your place,” he said, standing up and carrying the small bundle to the counter. “Where might that be, then?”

“Uh, do you know where the Crooked Hook is?” I asked, reaching into my pocket for my pouch of coins.

“Mmh, aye, the tavern on the docks owned by that troll woman,” Tim said, and I paused in the middle of counting out the silver coins to blink up at him.

“Miss Felda is not a troll,” a voice behind me snapped, and I almost jumped, before Mel put a hand on my shoulder. Elle also reappeared, standing at my other side, looking much less distressed, but equally as angry at Tim as Mel sounded.

Tim, already having gotten an earful from his mother, just nodded and mumbled an apology, accepting the small handful of coins from me.

Once we were back out on the streets, Elle and Mel’s serious looks gave way to little snorts and giggles, then the pair broke into full on laughter, taking a few steps away from the shop, with me in tow.

“By the bough, that man can not keep his foot out of his mouth for ten seconds,” Mel said, shaking her head. Then, focusing on me, she grinned and added, “Nice work back there, by the way. I was worried we’d have to step in for a second, but you really showed him.”

Elle snorted, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips. “I still can’t believe he’d try to take advantage of you like that. Did he think he could get away with it just because you’re new in town?”

I chuckled along with them, shrugging.

“Well, actually, it was probably because I’m, y’know…” I trailed off, pointing up to my large pointed cat ears, flicking one of them for good measure.

“That little…” Elle’s eyes opened wider and she glanced back up the street, before huffing and shaking her head. “Well, I’m glad we won’t have to go back there for a while. I hope this time he learns his lesson.”

After a few more moments of slow strolling while we put distance between us and the tailor’s shop, I looked up to Elle, who was now walking to my left, with Mel at my right.

“Are you, uh, alright, Elle?” I asked, and she immediately beamed, nodding.

“Oh, yes, I’m as ripe as a peach!” she said, putting an arm out to give me a quick sideways hug. “Sorry for worrying you, sometimes I get trapped in my own head and I need Mel to pull me out.”

“Huh,” I said, nodding while doing my best to return the gesture despite the height difference. “I can definitely understand that.”

I felt my ears start to sag a little as I remembered the fact that I didn’t have Morgan here to pull me out of any funk I should happen to fall into, nor did she have me. It was a sobering reminder, but, obviously cluing in to the way my ears were drooping, Elle once again laid a hand on my head and ruffled up my hair a bit. I smiled, and while it wasn’t enough to push the pain away entirely, it did help.

“So, where’re we going next?” I asked, after we’d walked in silence for an entire minute.

“That’s kind of up to you,” Mel said, glancing up at the sky. “We’ve still got a bit of time, what else did you want to buy today?”

I hummed, also tilting my head back while I thought. I hadn’t put together anything like a shopping list, but I knew the few key items I wanted to grab while I still had the extra funds to pay for them, and began to list them off.

“Well, I want some kind of bag, or satchel, something to carry my stuff in,” I said, holding up a finger then using it to tap my chin. “Then, I need a canteen, especially if I’m going to be going out fishing with Bart everyday. Beyond those two, well, I don’t really need them, but I’d like to pick up some gloves if I can, and is there any place in the village where I can get a blank notebook and something to write with?”

“Hmm, that shouldn’t be too hard,” Mel said after thinking for a moment. “We can visit one of the leatherworker’s shops for the satchel and the gloves, the general store has plenty of canteens, not sure about the notebook though.”

“Oh, we’re right by the post office, there’s a stationer’s store attached to it, they’ll have one,” Elle added, and at her urging, we picked up our pace again and moved further up the road. I really hadn’t noticed it before when we first began our shopping trip, but now it was hard to miss the fact that the area of the village that we were entering was visibly more well-kept than the homes and buildings closer to the shoreline. While all of the buildings near the docks were made almost exclusively of wood, the shops we’d been passing by had begun to incorporate more brick and stone into their construction, as well as being larger and more decorated.

By the time we arrived at the post office, almost every building we passed featured a brightly painted facade, and often a small flower garden in front of them, overflowing with flowers and even the occasional tree. Mirroring the buildings, the people I saw out on the streets were fewer in number and more finely dressed, to the point that I began to feel a little self-conscious about the shabby clothes I was wearing.

However, all I had to do was remind myself that this was likely the part of town that Bentley and his toadies hung around, and I didn’t give a shit about what they thought, so I had even less to worry about from the well-dressed villagers who were unabashedly staring in our direction. I still let out a little sigh of relief as we stepped into the post office, though.

Taking a look around the interior, I was at first surprised by how small the front lobby of the post office was, since it appeared to be quite a large building from the outside, but I realized all that extra space was probably used for more storage, with the front room only as spacious as it needed to be for the short time customers would be visiting to either drop off or pick up mail.

I was still kind of in awe that this village, or this world in general, had something like a post office, especially since none of the buildings seemed to have addresses, but I figured that was because most mail was expected to be picked up at the office, with direct delivery to a specific person being reserved only for the important people, or for those willing to pay extra for it.

After taking a moment just to adjust to the much less bright interior of the post office, Elle gave a short wave to the young man behind the counter, then led us through an open doorway adjacent to the front desk, and into a tiny stationery shop, the shelves and counters mostly taken up by bottles of ink, pens of various shapes and styles, and lots and lots of paper. I quickly found the things I was looking for: a blank notebook and, surprisingly, a pencil, or the closest thing I could find to one. It was a hollow wooden container meant to hold a stick of some thin, charcoal-like material, more like an oversized mechanical pencil, but still perfectly suitable for my needs.

I approached the desk to pay for my items and noticed, with a bit of a start, that the clerk dozing on her stool was another birdkin, with large snowy white wings folded up behind her. She let out a startled hoot when I woke her up, but quickly forgave me once she recognized me, as apparently Peter had already been back here and spoke at length about his meeting with me before heading back out to make more deliveries.

Notebook and pencils in hand (or, actually, in Mel’s satchel, because I didn’t want to risk dropping them or losing them), we set out again, this time stopping at the aforementioned leatherworker’s shop. The man inside, Leroy, also recognized me, and wasn’t shy about exclaiming so, and very loudly. He was a friend and business partner of Claire, the woman who I’d bought my sandals from, with the same odd accent as her as well, and he was all too glad to offer me a spacious shoulder bag made of sturdy black leather, and a matching pair of gloves at a price I was pretty sure was much lower than it should have been. I still insistent on paying a little extra to have the gloves “tailored” for me, which in this case meant having the tips of the fingers quickly removed and re-sewn, so that I’d actually be able to wear them with my claws, which for some reason seemed to amuse Elle and Mel to no end.

Even though we were making good time, by the time we arrived at the general store, I was definitely feeling my energy begin to flag again.

“Ugh, am I going to have to take another nap when we get back?” I grumbled to myself.

“What?” Elle asked, looking back.

“N-nothing,” I said, shaking my head and slipping into the general store ahead of her. Damn, I really was talking to myself too much lately.

Inside the general store, the shelves and counters were stocked with the widest selection of items I’d seen yet, which I supposed was what made it a “general” store. There were large sacks of fragrant beans, both coffee and otherwise, as well as rice and other grains. I found things like candles, lengths of rope and chain, a selection of glass bottles and stoppers as well as empty metal tins, various tools and farming implements, even a few empty barrels. All in all, a predictable spread of goods, with the only surprising thing being that the store appeared to be owned, or at least operated, by one of the druids, instead of another one of the ordinary villagers.

I was a little wary of being in such close proximity to one of the robed and masked individuals so soon after the scene I’d made in Dani’s shop, but there was no way that was the same druid, was there?

Either way, I wandered the rows of shelves until I found what I was looking for, picking up the large circular canteen and preparing to bring it to the counter, but something caught my eye and made me pause mid turn. Sitting on the opposite shelf was a collection of hair brushes, and I found myself picking one up and turning it over in my hands without even realizing it.

“What’s up?” Mel asked, suddenly leaning over my shoulder and making me jump.

“Nothing!” I said, a little too quickly and much too nervously, considering it was just a brush.

“You sure?” Mel asked dryly, a smug smile spreading across her half-covered face. “Because you’ve been staring at that brush for like five minutes.”

“R-really?” I sputtered, reaching up and replacing it on the shelf. “It’s nothing, forget it, I don’t need it—”

“But you want it, right?” Mel asked again, stopping me when I tried to brush past her.

My eyes flicked back to the brush, sitting askew on the shelf where I’d left it, and I bit my lip. I wanted to answer, but my mouth suddenly felt like it was full of sand, so I just nodded.

“Well, what’s stopping you?”

I opened my mouth to answer but my throat was too tight to force any words out of. Lowering my eyes, I swallowed and tried again.

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, which wasn’t entirely accurate. It was more like I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to fully dredge the memory up out of the depths there and then in the middle of the general store.

Mel appeared to mull over my non-answer for a few seconds before replying, lowering her voice and speaking softly.

“Do you want me to buy it for you?” Mel asked, and I felt two different responses struggling to be the first out of my mouth.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” I spat sourly, the more volatile side winning out due to her condescending tone. “You know I’m not a child anymore, I’m a year younger than you.”

“And Elle’s a year older than me, but she still asks me to cover her ears when it thunders,” Mel said, not reacting at all to my sudden lashing out, just standing up straight and shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry, I’m being pushy, I’ll drop it if you want—”

“W-wait…” I reached up and caught the edge of Mel’s sleeve as she started to turn, pulling her back. My throat was still tight and my voice was little more than a squeak, but I managed to whisper, “Yes… please…”

Nodding, Mel offered no response, but scooped up the brush I’d been looking at and stepped away, putting distance between us and approaching the counter ahead of me, while I stayed behind to compose myself. I wondered, briefly, where Elle had disappeared to, only to catch a glimpse of green hair just before it disappeared around the edge of one of the shelves. I let out a surprised bark of laughter and shook my head.

“She really wants to be my friend,” I muttered, looking at the canteen I still had clutched in my hands. I glanced toward the counter, where Mel had just finished purchasing the brush for me because I was too much of a—because I couldn’t buy it myself.

“Both of them,” I said, smiling privately. Though Mel wasn’t as… enthusiastic to show it as Elle was, she’d been no less accommodating of me for the afternoon. Maybe it was a mistake, getting my and probably their hopes up when there was a possibility I could be expelled from the village in a little over a month, but, if I was being honest, I really wanted to be their friend too.

“Guess I’ll just have to make sure I win that contest,” I said, taking a deep breath. I deflated slightly when I realized I’d been having that whole internal monologue very externally, and brought a hand to my forehead. “Okay I have to stop doing that…”

…damnit.

I finally approached the counter, placing the canteen on top of it and meeting the impassive lenses of the druid’s mask.

“Just this,” I said, completely dismissing from my mind the possibility that this was the same druid from before.

“T-that’ll be… five shells…” the druid said, their masked face turning away slightly, their muffled voice very soft.

Oh… oh no…

I was counting out the coins as fast as I possibly could, when Elle finally re-emerged from the shelves, appearing behind me, letting out a gasp and leaning forward over my shoulder.

“Oh, hi again, David!” she exclaimed excitedly, and I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins. I met the druid’s eyes, or rather, his lenses, and felt an unseen, unspoken bond of suffering form between us for just a moment before he broke eye contact again, and I hastily slammed the coins down onto the counter.

Somewhere off to the side, Mel let out a groan and slapped a hand against her forehead.

■

“Oh, welcome back!” Felda greeted us with a smile upon returning to the tavern. “How was your day out?”

“Great,” I said as me, Elle, and Mel shuffled in through the door. After exiting the general store, we’d all agreed we’d had enough for the day, and it was getting close to the time that Elle and Mel would have to head home and prepare for their shifts for that night, but they still insisted on accompanying me back.

“Good, good, come have some lunch and tell me about it,” Felda said, ushering us over to the bar where she already had a few plates waiting.

Lunch consisted of, to my immense surprise and delight, sandwiches.

“What’s so funny?” Elle asked as I failed to stifle the giggling that had started the moment I climbed into the stool and saw what awaited me on my plate.

“It’s… it’s nothing!” I said through my fingers, clapping them over my mouth until I could stop snickering. I didn’t even know why I found the sight of the simple assembly of bread, meat, cheese, and lettuce so amusing, other than it was one of the last things I expected to see, and at the same time completely unsurprising. For as many ways as this world was alien to my own, there were just as many uncanny similarities, and it was finally starting to sink in.

So, when I lifted one of the triangularly sliced halves of the sandwich and bit into it, finding that it contained both mayonnaise and mustard, I wasn’t even mildly shocked. I just let out a blissful groan and closed my eyes, settling in to enjoy my lunch.

Afterwards, Elle was only a few moments into her recounting of our shopping trip before I found my mouth opening wide in a surprisingly drawn-out yawn.

“Wow,” Mel said, leaning forward in the stool beside Elle, smirking at me.

“Aww…” Elle cooed, biting down on her lip, apparently fighting a losing battle against the urge to fawn over me. She reached over from her stool and I was too slow trying to swat her hand away before her fingers once again settled against my scalp, scratching gently.

Felda just looked on in amusement, a comfortable smile on her face.

“S-sorry,” I stammered out after Elle had had her fill of scritching behind my ears. “I’m fine, keep going, I’m just gona… rest my head for a little bit.”

I could tell none of them believed me, especially when another yawn cut me off in the middle of assuring them, but Elle continued regardless. With a huff, I crossed my arms and laid them on the bar in front of me, leaning forward and resting my head on them, reminiscent of how I would sit the exact same way in class on days when I’d not gotten enough sleep the night before. And, similarly to how I’d tell myself then that I wouldn’t actually fall asleep, that I was only resting my head, I soon found myself nodding off anyway, listening to Elle and Mel and Felda’s voices as they chatted on amicably, until I fell into a deep, deep sleep.

I was only able to recognize that I had fallen asleep in hindsight, when I was woken from it by Felda’s soft voice and gentle prodding.

“Come now, Sam, let's get you to bed…” Felda spoke quietly, and I blinked in confusion, glancing around to where Elle and Mel had been moments before.

“Wha… where…” I mumbled sleepily, slipping out of the stool at Felda's light urging, landing on boneless legs that almost refused to hold me up.

“They went home, but they'll be back soon, you'll see them when you wake up,” Felda assured me, steering me around the bar to the small set of stairs that led to the single bedroom on the first floor.

I had to lean on her for support as we crossed the short hallway towards her bedroom door, as I was feeling extremely lethargic. That wasn't helped by one of Felda's hands finding its way to the top of my head, and it was only my tight grip on her waist that kept me from turning into a puddle on the floor.

With my head tilted sideways and resting against Felda’s hip, my eyes once again landed on the large bookshelf, so subtly off center in the hallway, and I sleepily mumbled my disagreement with its placement.

“That shelf is… so weird,” I complained, sniffing and waving a dismissive hand in its direction. “You should scoot it over a few feet.”

For some reason, my comment made Felda stop in her tracks, and caused her whole body to stiffen, which I only noticed because of how tightly I was holding onto it. When I raised one sleepy, bleary eye up to look at her, she just smiled down at me and started walking again.

“Come, let's get you to bed,” Felda said, and I just hummed in agreement, closing my eyes.

Whether or not I actually made it to the bed, I couldn't say, but the bed was certainly where I found myself when my eyes fluttered open an unknown amount of time later.

“What the…” I mumbled, glancing around Felda’s room, and taking note of the fading sunlight out the window.

Hadn’t I just been at the bar? No, wait, I had a fuzzy recollection of Felda escorting me to her bedroom. Sitting up, I found that I’d been laid on top of the covers, but with a second lighter blanket draped over me, which slipped off as I moved. Waiting for me at the foot of the bed, which for me was several feet away because of just how long the bed itself was, were two neatly folded articles of clothing, one shirt and one pair of pants, which I recognized as one of the sets I’d bought from the surly tailor that afternoon.

Scooting forward until I could sit at the edge of the bed, I quickly stripped off the ill-fitting two-day old clothes, glad to be rid of them, and tugged on the light cotton shirt before hopping to my feet to draw the pants up my legs. I paused, and smiled, when I noticed that they’d already had the simple but effective modification made to them to accommodate my tail, with fresh stitching around the new hole to keep it from ripping open further than intended.

As I’d expected, these pants were a far cry from the pair Felda had borrowed from some acquaintance of hers. They were snug, but not to the point of being uncomfortably tight, and stopped just above my ankles, like what would be called capri pants back on Earth. Stepping away from the bed, I paced a few experimental laps around the edges of Felda’s room, finding them perfectly acceptable, and began looking for wherever my sandals had gotten to.

I found my sandals beside the bed, in front of one of the small side tables that sat on either side of the bed, but froze when I saw what else was placed on top of said table, waiting for me like a snake coiled to strike. The hair brush, the one I’d been too afraid to purchase for myself. I’d forgotten to take it from Mel following our hasty departure from the general store, but she must have given it to Felda before they left.

With one trembling hand, I reached out and picked up the brush, once again sitting on the edge of the bed as I stared at it. All that trouble, over something so small, so simple. I had wanted it more than I could have said, yet now was almost too afraid to even hold it. Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to toss some of my fluffy mane of orange hair over my shoulder and, achingly slowly, began lifting the brush up towards it.

Seconds later, I set the brush back down on the side table. I flung my hair, untouched, back over my shoulders, and bent down to finish strapping my sandals back on. I hurried out of Felda’s bedroom, shutting the door behind me without looking back.

I lingered in the hallway, the short transitional space between the bedroom and the tavern, with my back against the wall, taking deep breaths. That was… I didn’t know what that was, but I couldn’t go out to the main room like I was. My distress was evident, and though I could force my ears to stand up straight if I concentrated on them, my tail refused to stop lashing around like an out of control firehose. Were my new features always projecting my emotions like this, and I was only just now realizing it since becoming more in tune with my extra extremities? I had no way of knowing, but it made sense. Everyone always seemed so quick to offer me sympathy and a gentle word whenever my mood took a downward turn, and it was no wonder, if my ears and tail were constantly waving my feelings in everyone’s faces like a flag.

I grumbled, realizing that berating myself wasn’t helping my sour mood. Taking a few more deep breaths, I tried to push the dark clouds up and out of my mind, and told myself I could deal with the brush later. I could hear the clatter and chatter of the tavern drifting around the corner, not quite in full swing yet, and, in the midst of it, hints of the people I was beginning to think of as my first and only friends in this world.

If I focused, I could single out Elle and Mel’s voices from the din. I could smell the food that was being served, a bouquet of fishy fragrances that filled the air as Felda toiled away in the kitchen. I realized I could even tell that Bart was present in the bar, as I picked his scent out from the mix. Almost everyone in this part of the village smelled like fish, but Bart had a few distinct identifiers: his boots had a unique odor, some kind of oil or polish that he probably applied regularly, and his breath carried hints of some pungent floral scent. And then there were the other, fainter hints; the smell of the dried meats and trail mix he kept on his person, or the aged paper of the book he carried. All of it came together to form a signature smell, as unique as a fingerprint, that left no doubt in my mind that the old fisherman was tucked away in his dark corner of the bar, reading quietly.

It was… actually kind of scary, how certain of that I was. I could probably have constructed a similar profile of Elle, Mel, and Felda’s scents too, if I thought about it. It’d make them easy to track down, if I ever lost them in a crowd, or if they ever went missing.

“Tssh…” I scoffed, rising to my feet. I guess when it came to catkin superpowers, I was just going to have to take the good with the bad. Everyone might know at a glance whenever I was sad, but I would never ever lose a game of hide and seek.

Feeling better, (well, relatively,) I rounded the corner to the main room, taking in the state of the tavern. As I’d thought, only three of the tables were occupied, one of them by the group of dwarves that contained Nils, the other two by small groups of dockworkers. Peter was once again seated at the bar, and if I craned my neck, I could indeed make out the silhouette of Bart in the dark corner booth behind the stairs.

What I didn’t expect was my presence to be noticed so quickly, and for the dockworkers that spotted me to exclaim cheerfully, raising their wooden mugs in my direction.

“Oy oy, cat girl!” they cried, a chant that was picked up and repeated by the other table, and suddenly all eyes were on me. I blinked in surprise and fought back the urge to flee back around the corner, giving the small crowd a little wave.

Wow, is this what it feels like to be popular?

Well, good attention or bad attention, it was a lot of attention, so I quickly excused myself by slipping behind the bar. Elle, who had also been amongst the group to exclaim her excitement at my arrival, appeared in front of the bar a moment later, beaming down at me.

“Welcome back, Sammie,” she chirped, and shuffled a little in embarrassment.

“H-hey Elle,” I said, scratching at the back of my head. “Sorry I kinda just… dozed off on you two, I didn’t mean to, but…”

“Oh it’s fine, we don’t mind. It was actually kind of adorable,” Elle said, which only caused the faint heat in my cheeks to increase. “I was just a little surprised you could be that tired again, especially since you said you had another nap before you went out with us.”

“Er, yeah, well, it’s kind of different for me,” I stammered, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. “I was exhausted after coming back from my fishing training, but after a quick nap I was wide awake again, at least long enough for our shopping trip. Same with the nap I just took, it was probably only an hour but I feel like I could run a marathon.”

“Huh,” Elle said, furrowing her brow. “Is that normal?”

“Oh, that’s perfectly normal,” a politely accented voice cut in, and Elle and I turned, finding Peter smiling in our direction. He tilted his head, very fractionally tipping the little red cap on his head in greeting before continuing. “Ah, apologies for eavesdropping, Miss Oakwood, Miss Fisher, but I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“Peter, I keep telling you, you can just call me Elle!” Elle’s tone was exasperated, but her smile was good natured, and the bird man just bobbed his head in response. “Anyway, what were you saying?”

“Well, as Miss— er, as Sam was saying, catkin have the ability to emulate their feline counterparts and space their sleep periods out into many smaller chunks throughout the day, rather than one long rest all at once, correct?”

Peter looked to me, and I just stared back blankly before realizing he was asking for confirmation. With a start, I hastily nodded.

“Uh, yup, that’s right!” I said, pointing a finger at him and grinning to cover the sudden spike in nerves I was feeling. Peter had implied as much before, but that was pretty solid confirmation that Bart wasn’t the only person with prior experience with catkin I had to be wary of. At least I’d been on the right track, but the way he said it made it sound like I could choose to sleep in shifts, when, in my experience, if my body said it was time to get some sleep, I had very little say in the matter.

“Huh,” Elle said as she finished absorbing the new fact, looking down at me appraisingly. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work, we’ll talk more later, Sam. Nice talking to you too, Peter.”

Peter moved one of his wings in a wave as Elle departed, just in time to receive a newly arrived group of fishermen.

“Thanks for the save,” I said after Elle had gone, and Peter appeared to ponder what I’d said for a few moments before nodding his head.

“Ah, you’re quite welcome, Sam, I know it can sometimes be… difficult, or tiresome, to explain aspects of being a demihuman to the other races, especially if you don’t fully understand them yourself.”

I cocked my head slightly at his words, and Peter laughed before lowering his voice, mindful of the large bartender, Viktor, who had so far only given me a quick nod but had otherwise ignored our end of the bar.

“Forgive me, I could tell you were having a bit of trouble, explaining it to Miss Oakwood. It’s really nothing to be embarrassed about, we can’t help the eccentricities that come bundled with our unique existences,” Peter explained, reaching inside his red woolen vest and withdrawing a small twig, twirling it between his clawed fingers. “Though I’ve long since outgrown the nest building phase from when I was a young chick, I still find myself occasionally drawn to pick up particularly sturdy looking specimens like this, though I always end up throwing them out eventually. Just as this stick doesn’t make me a bird, a couple of midday naps don’t make you a cat. It’s just a part of who we are.”

I blinked, looking from Peter’s face to the twig as he regarded it fondly, before tucking it back into his vest. That was awfully profound for a spur of the moment conversation, and I was kind of at a loss for what I could even say in response. Instead of trying to match his gravitas, or dispute that I’d been feeling embarrassed about my nature as a catkin or whatever, I instead just asked the first question that popped into my head.

“Why don’t you just keep one or two of them instead of throwing them all out?”

Peter's mouth opened slightly in surprise, before he regarded me with a smile, letting out a sensible chuckle and shrugging his shoulders.

“You know, I've never really asked myself. Perhaps I'll think on it. Thank you for the conversation, Miss Fisher.”

With that, Peter turned back to his meal. I recognized it as the same basket of battered and fried perch portions Felda had made for me following my return from the fishing lesson, plus a side of crisp-looking potato wedges. The sight of it made my mouth water, and I remembered that Felda had promised me another meal from the perch she'd set aside out of my catch.

“Uh, you're welcome, I'll see you around, Peter.” I belatedly remembered to offer my own parting to the bird man before I scurried away towards the kitchen door.

Viktor once again regarded me as I passed, but this time he didn't stop me, his thick brown mustache twitching as nodded in wordless greeting. He didn't seem like much of a talker, so I just gave him a nod in return, flicking one of my ears. I slipped past him and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, finding Fedla resting against the far counter.

She looked up at my entrance, the golden pocketwatch in her hand, and beamed brightly.

“Almost exactly an hour on the dot,” she said, tucking her watch away and straightening up. “I could probably set my watch by your naps.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes playfully, crossing the kitchen towards her in a few quick strides, before coming up short and catching myself. I wasn't actually sure why I'd been closing in on Felda with such speed, and she seemed to share my confusion, tilting her head.

“Is something wrong, Sam?” The concerned tone of her voice reminded me of what had happened the last time I'd come to meet her in her kitchen immediately after waking up, and the memory of how hard I'd broken down was still quite raw, but I was determined not to put on a repeat performance.

“No, sorry, I… my brain isn't fully awake yet,” I said, closing the last steps between us at a more subdued pace. Felda laughed and smiled wider, and one of her large hands landed on the top of my head before I could think to react. As I purred and began tilting my head into her gentle petting, the answer came to me like a flash going off.

“Oooohh…” I sighed in realization, snapping my fingers. A bit of Elle and Mel’s not-so-private conversation from before came back to me.

They're a lot more physical, especially with people they trust…

It really wasn't a difficult puzzle to solve at all. Though it had only been two days, I trusted Felda quite a lot, and my instincts wanted me to express that trust physically. Like my new taste for seafood, that was possibly a little disconcerting. Especially since, prior to my transformation, the very idea of being touched by anyone but my single closest friend was enough to make me nervous and uncomfortable. And yet, I’d also always felt pangs of jealous envy whenever I witnessed how easily my classmates could pull off casual physical contact.

Wait, no, that’s not quite right. Not all my classmates, just…

“What’s got you so deep in thought, Sam?”

Felda’s words were a handhold that I used to drag myself out of my own thoughts before I drowned in them, and I looked up at her, smiling ruefully.

“Cat stuff,” I said, and Felda chuckled at my non-answer, but didn’t press the issue. “Speaking of, you said you were going to make me something with that other perch, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I didn’t forget, don’t worry,” Felda chuckled, removing her hand from my scalp and walking over towards the large oven that was currently filling the kitchen with heat and a particularly distracting smell. “I was pretty sure you’d be up by now, so I put it in a short while ago, it should just be finishing up now. Grab me a plate from the stack, if you please.”

I was almost bouncing with excitement as Felda opened the oven a crack to peek inside, flooding the kitchen with even more of that mouth watering aroma. I spun around before I could get distracted and found the stack of clean dishware piled up on one of the nearby counters, grabbing a large plate and bringing it back to Felda.

Slipping on a large padded glove, Felda reached into the oven and withdrew a small pan with a metal rack, in the center of which, glistening like a treasure, rested two side by side portions of the perch I'd caught, their pearly white skin baked to an enticing golden brown.

While I was completely entranced, literally drooling over the sight of the delectable cut of fish, Felda reached into the oven a second time, withdrawing a second square-shaped, high-walled pan that sizzled softly as she placed it upon the counter. Taking a peek inside, I found it filled end to end with a layer of miniature potatoes that had been halved and coated in herbs and oil. Using a spatula, Felda deftly placed the portions of baked perch on the empty plate, then piled up a generous helping of roasted potatoes against it. There was still a third of the plate that sat glaringly empty, and Felda once again reached out, this time removing a pot that had been quietly simmering away on the stove, removing the lid and releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. Using a set of tongs, Felda filled the empty space on the plate with several of the long, thin shoots of asparagus that had been steaming in a basket above the water.

Stepping back, Felda presented the assembled dinner to me, and for several seconds I just looked back and forth from it to her with my mouth hanging open.

“Oh my god, Felda,” I said, once I'd once I’d picked my jaw up off the floor. I took a step closer, inhaling deeply and feeling my knees wobble a bit. “That looks amazing!”

“Aww, thank you dear.” Felda beamed, once again petting the top of my head. Before I could start to reach for the plate, Felda let out a hum, running her fingers through my hair slowly, appraising it. “It's a good thing you remembered to pick up a brush, you really need it.”

I felt my back stiffen at Felda’s comment. That’s right, she would have been the one to deliver the brush to the bedside table. Was that her way of saying I should have brushed my hair before I came down?

No, no, I just as quickly shook away those thoughts. Felda didn't talk in double meanings like that, if she wanted something from me she would just say so, I was certain of that.

Before my momentary lapse could be noticed, I chuckled and nodded, flicking one of my ears at Felda’s probing fingers.

“Heh, yeah, you can say that again,” I said, and not-so-subtly changed the subject.

“Uh, so, this still looks delicious, but it also looks like a whole lot of work, you didn't need to go to so much trouble just for me,” I said, nodding down at the faintly steaming plate resting on the counter before me. “N-not that I'm not grateful, I mean, it's just—”

Felda cut me off with a laugh, slowly shaking her head as she leaned over me.

“Oh Sam, honestly,” she sighed as she stopped laughing, just giving me that same wide, patient smile. “Cooking food for the people I care about is no trouble at all, in fact it’s one of my greatest joys. This is hardly the most extravagant meal I could have made, and, if it makes you feel better, it’s not only for you, see?”

She motioned to the pot and pan, which still held multiple servings each of the vegetables, and I had seen more fish baking away in the ovens as well. That was right, Felda did own a restaurant in the end, so sparing a little extra to treat me to a fine meal wouldn’t put her out at all.

“So please, Sam, you take this and you go enjoy yourself,” Felda insisted, patting me on the back nodding at the waiting plate. “It’s a special occasion, and you deserve to celebrate it!”

Just like that, Felda's words blew away the anxiety and guilt that had been building in the back of my mind over the fact that this meal consisted of much more than just the fish I'd caught, and I knew without even asking that Felda wouldn't accept any payment for it.

“Okay, th… thank you, Felda.” I conceded and, for good measure, leaned into the instincts I’d felt welling up since I arrived and threw my arms around her waist, giving her a quick squeeze before pulling away and picking up the plate. I had just enough presence of mind to grab a knife and fork before I fled the kitchen with my face burning, keeping my head down as I scurried out from behind the bar, and finally weaving my way towards the far corner booth where Bart still sat.

Depositing myself into the opposite bench, I met Bart’s eyes as he looked up from his book. He offered me a small smile and nodded at my plate.

“I see Felda couldn’t resist spoiling you for a single day,” he commented, and I snorted.

“I tried to tell her the same thing!” I protested with a laugh, pouring generously from the pitcher of lemonade that already sat in the center of the table, into the extra glass that was already waiting for me. “Besides, you’re one to talk, trying to treat me to two whole danishes in one day.”

I grinned, getting a certain amount of smug satisfaction out of the look on Bart’s face at the reminder. He tried to hide the wider smile I knew was forming behind his clenched fist, and settled on a gruff, raspy chuckle while shaking his head.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he said, leaning back in the booth and clearing his throat. “Either way, I hope as much as Felda does that you enjoy it, you earned it.”

I smiled, and only for a second did I doubt whether or not that was true. Lapsing back into comfortable silence, Bart returned to his book while I picked up my utensils, slicing off a large chunk of the perch and eagerly shoving it into my mouth.

“Mmmmmmhhhhhmmm…”

I let out a groan as the subtle flavor overtook me. Just like before, the perch’s flesh was firm but flakey, with a sweet undertone that was emphasized and complemented by the blend of spices that had been baked into a thin crust on top of the fillet. Already reeling from the taste of the fish, I jabbed a few of the crisp potato halves and popped them in next, shuddering at the way the crisp outer shell crunched before giving way to tender, fluffy interior. The potatoes were a bit spicier than the fish, their outsides dotted with large flecks I soon realized were probably crushed pepper seeds. Lastly, after taking a long gulp of lemonade to wash down the first two mouthfuls, I speared a couple of the asparagus stalks and, with slightly less gusto, raised them to my mouth to take a bite. My initial hesitation was immediately blown away by the buttery, tender, delicious taste of the shoots, and I wolfed down the first two stalks and went back for two more before I remembered I had a whole plate to clear.

By the time I’d finished eating, I was so full and satisfied I thought I could easily fall back to sleep right there in the booth.

“Ooouuhh… Baaaart…” I grunted, rising from where I’d sprawled out lengthwise across my half of the booth, meeting the man’s eyes again as he looked up. “Where did Felda learn to cook like that?”

“Hah, you’d have to ask her for the full story,” Bart said, chuckling again. “All I can say is that she’s had many years to hone her skills.”

“I can tell,” I said, idly dragging a finger across the surface of my now empty plate, licking a bit of the flavorful greasy residue from my fingertip. “I’m surprised she isn’t working in some fancy high class restaurant or something, with how good she is.”

“Ah, well, that’s…” Bart trailed off, looking uncharacteristically troubled.

Before Bart could manage to find the words he was searching for, I turned my head, my attention drawn by a sudden commotion. It was the sound of heavy footfalls and several raucous overlapping voices out on the docks, and though I was the first one to notice it, everyone in the tavern was looking up well before the dark mass of people appeared outside the front windows. The double doors were practically blown open as a small crowd of people washed into the tavern like a wave crashing onto the beach, and I felt my eyes going wide as I took in their appearances.

There were at least fifteen of them, men and women both, mostly mixed between humans and elves, but also several people who I couldn’t identify. They were larger and bulkier than their comrades, with waxy skin that ranged from dark, mottled greens and reds, to pale milky white, and every one seemed to have some the same sort of odd growths sprouting from their shoulders and heads; thick stalks with wide, round caps that I realized were mushrooms.

Even more striking than this new race of people I’d yet to meet, were the ways in which this crowd of people were dressed. Their outfits were rugged and piecemeal, many bearing the signs of constant and frequent repairs, and as they started to break off into groups and find seats around the tavern, I noticed that every single one of them was visibly armed in some way. Some had swords hanging at their hips, some had the handles of knives protruding from their shirts, and one of the large mushroom people even walked with a thick wooden pole that was as tall as she was.

I was already suspicious of this crowd, but the appearance of the last two people to enter was what really sealed the deal. The first was a large man with tanned skin and sandy blonde hair, which was broken up by a pair of large, slightly rounded ears. His eyes were similarly golden in color, and swept around the room in a quick circuit. He wore a loose-fitting orange shirt that hung half open, leaving his muscular physique on full display, as well as tattered red pants that ended several inches above his bare, clawed feet. When he turned to make way for the last member of the crowd to enter, I saw a large, bushy tail covered in the same shaggy blonde fur, snaking out from the back of his pants and lightly waving in the air as he spoke to the man entering after him.

The final person to enter was an elf, his skin a similar shade of purplish blue to Mel’s, while his hair was a much lighter sky blue, going almost white at the tips. He wore a floppy, wide brimmed hat that sat slightly askew on his head, and had a huge overcoat that almost touched the floor draped over his shoulders. His clothes were nicer than the rest, consisting of some kind of short sleeved robe embroidered with wave patterns that ended at his thighs and loose, flowing pants with a similar design. At his hips he wore not a sword, but a pair of short lengths of intricately carved wood that I would have had to have been an idiot not to realize were wands. He let out a light, tinkling laugh at whatever the dog man had said, and followed him to one of the booths, which several of his crew members had reserved space for him in.

Yes, they were his crew members, I was sure of that. Just as I was absolutely sure that the elf in blue robes was the captain of this crew, and the dog man his second-in-command, and that they and every single person that had just entered the tavern were pirates.

Behind me, Bart just let out a tired sigh, which I felt was a little too calm of a reaction to having the tavern suddenly overrun with pirates.

“Bart…” I said, whispering even though none of the burly crew members had sat near us.

“Mmmh?” Bart hummed, and I turned, meeting his eyes, crouched so low I was almost sliding out of the bench and under the table. Damnit, why was he so calm?

“I think those are pirates!” I hissed through my teeth.

Bart stared back at me, his face a flat, indecipherable mask. Slowly, deliberately, he brought a hand up and clenched it into a fist, then pressed that fist into his mouth, his calm demeanor finally breaking as his face scrunched up and he let out a choked, muffled snort. I gaped, aghast, as Bart struggled not to laugh at me while we were surrounded by pirates.

“Bart, this is no laughing matter!” I spluttered at him, which only seemed to make him double over harder, opening his clenched fist and pressing his whole hand against his mouth. He held up his other hand, palm out towards me, telling me to wait, or perhaps stop, while he regained his composure. By the time he had, I was fully scowling, sitting with my arms crossed as he caught his breath and met my concerned glare.

“I… apologize, Sam, that was very… ahem…” Bart didn’t seem to know what to say for himself, clearing his throat and dragging a hand across his stubbled chin. Finally, he just settled on nodding, saying, “Yes, those are pirates, Sam.”

“I know that,” I shot back, glancing over my shoulder. To my consternation, it wasn’t just Bart who was showing a starting lack of concern for the current situation, but everyone in the tavern. The regular patrons, momentarily shocked into silence by the appearance of the pirate crew, had returned to their usual business of eating and chatting. I could even see Elle and Mel making their way around the tavern, taking the crew’s orders. It was utterly baffling.

“Shouldn’t we be worried?” I asked, snapping my eyes back to Bart, who was giving me a strange, bemused look as he relaxed back into the booth. At my words, some of his casual air evaporated, and his brows furrowed.

“What? No, of course not, this is Torgard. Why would we have need to fear pirates here?” Bart asked, and though I understood every word he said, the casual, offhanded way he dismissed my worries made me feel like I must have been hearing him wrong.

“Because,” I said, leaning closer, my own brows knitting together as confusion overtook my concern. “Aren’t pirates dangerous criminals?”

Oh, I did not like the way Bart’s eyes widened as soon as those words left my lips. But I barely had time to worry about that, as a loud, booming voice cut across the entire tavern, overpowering all other sounds.

“Oy, who the fuck said that?!”

Feeling the blood in my veins turn to ice, I turned, slowly, in the direction the shout had come from, locking eyes with the fierce golden irises of the dog man seated beside the pirate captain. His nostrils flared, and one of his pointed ears twitched as his gaze bore into my soul, and I got the distinct impression he already knew exactly who had said that.

I opened my mouth, trying to force out some kind of apology, but my throat closed up like a vice, and all that escaped was a strangled squeak. Before my rationality could completely fail me, I wracked my brain for options, and when a brilliant, foolproof plan to escape the situation presented itself, I acted without a second thought.

I ducked down into the booth, slid off the bench, and hid under the table.