Hattie and Grace spent the rest of the afternoon playing Stone Memory, and reminisced about their youth together in Derington.

“Remember when Flora pitched that bucket at her sister for letting the ducks escape?” Grace chuckled.

“I do--that poor girl spent the year washing laundry to earn back the cost of those ducks,” Hattie said. They talked of other light hearted stories. A particular story that involved the local baker, a young lad in love, and a confused apprentice had them laughing in huge gasps.

As the sun began to set, the sound of people talking drifted over to Hattie. it was Fior. He stepped into view, a woman standing alongside him.

“Good evening,” Fior said, meeting Hattie’s eyes, “this is my wife, Melanie.”

Melanie was thick armed and bulky from years of heavy lifting farm work, with a kerchief keeping her flaxen hair out of her face. She smiled at the trio sitting at the white table.

“Lovely to meet you, dear. I’m Hattie Miller,” Hattie said, and patted Min’s head, “your boy is a treasure.”

“Thank you, it’s nice to have a guest, as we don’t have visitors often,” Melanie turned to Grace and Min, “I’m glad you’ve been enjoying the cookies, mam, but you’d do better to hide the evidence next time. Young man,” she threw a stern stare at Min, “I hope you let Miss Hattie eat some.”

“I did--truly scrumptious,” Hattie said, trying to deflect attention from the boy.

“Ah well,” Melanie sighed. “We’ve got to wash up. We’ll have supper in about fifteen minutes.” Hattie noticed that they were indeed rather sweaty and dust covered, as farmwork typically does involve lots of physical effort. Melanie and Fior walked into the house.

“Let’s have one more round, then,” Grace said, and reset the game. Hattie had been able to keep up with her phenomenal skills, and Grace had only just managed to win most of the games.

The sky growing ever darker, and the two elderly ladies played another round. This time, Hattie managed to win by a hair’s breadth. She cackled at Grace's annoyed expression. The annoyace cleared, manners taking over.

“Nice job, Hattie.” Grace said, stacking the game pieces in neat piles. “We ought to head inside, I think.” Grace put the first stack away into the little chest the game was stored in.

“Miss Hattie,” Min reached over to Hattie’s collar, and stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated sticking Hattie's bronze wolf pin back in place. Hattie sat still as a statue until he finished.

“Thank you, dear.” Hattie exhaled, glad to not have been punctured by the sharp metal tip.

The group finished their cleaning and headed back inside. A fire had been started in the hearth, and yellow lamps lit the rest of the room. Grace went to the kitchen and pulled out clean dishes.

“Let me help,” Hattie eased the stack of plates into her arms and walked to the supper table.

“I’ll get the cutlery, then,” said Grace, “Min, get some cups.”

Min dutifully walked over to the cabinet where cups, mugs, and a few glasses were kept. He carried some to the table, then set them down by each place. Creaks sounded from the stairway as someone walked down. Hattie glanced upwards. Melanie appeared in the landing, fresh faced, and more energetic than before.

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“Fior will be down soon,” Melanie said, “Min, go tell your brother we have a guest and that supper is about to be served!”

“Yes, mama,” Min set down the last cup and headed out the backdoor.

Hattie and Grace finished setting the plates and cutlery. In the kitchen, Melanie used a thick cloth to pull something out of the oven, and the strong fragrances of cumin and cinnamon filled Hattie’s nose. Melanie set the pot on the table and pulled out a second, smaller pot from the oven and placed it next to the first one.

“You can sit here,” Melanie pointed to a seat closer to the head of the table.

Hattie sat down where Melanie had indicated, and Grace took the seat across from her.

The backdoor opened, and Min bounded in, his lanky teenage brother behind him.

“Introduce yourself, we’ve got a guest,” Melanie called out.

The boy’s voice was too quiet to hear.

“Shout,” said Grace, “I can’t hear you.”

He fidgeted a moment before he responded, louder this time, “My name is Taiki.”

“Hattie Miller,” Hattie said, “I grew up with your grandmother.”

“Miss Hattie’s amazing!” Min shouted, “She’s an adventurer and she can beat granny at Stone Memory!” Min tugged on his brother’s shirt, “Can I pleeease sit in your seat? I want to sit next to Miss Hattie!”

Taiki nodded. Min took the seat next to Hattie with a grin on his face, and Taiki sat next to his grandmother. The stairs groaned as Fior made his way downstairs. He smiled when he saw everyone at the table.

“Ah, my family all at the table, and a guest! And a productive day,” he said, “who could ask for more?”

Hattie raised a brow, “Some commerce, perhaps?”

Fior raised his brow right back, “Intriguing. You did hint to that earlier...but first let's start dinner.”

Fior walked over to the head of the table and slid his seat out. Melanie served a portion of stew and potatoes to Hattie, and then put a heaping portion onto Fior’s plate.

“Tell me more,” he sat down, and threaded his fingers together. Grace’s plate was filled.

“Your brother Han told me you have some docile gold wolves,” Hattie touched her pin, “I can’t abide horses, so I thought it would be worth asking after them.”

Fior leaned back and rubbed his chin, then waved a hand, “Eat, eat.”

Hattie raised a spoon to her mouth and blew on it. The rest of the family did the same. The stew, a spiced concoction with a hint of sweetness hit all the right taste buds. Hattie used her spoon to cut a chunk out of the potato, and it’s creamy texture made her note to ask for the recipe later.

“It’s a possibility. They're not at all as ferocious as the ones raised to see war, but they’re still nothing to scoff at,” Fior ate another bite.

“What kind of care do they need?” Hattie asked.

“Regular portions of meat, monster or livestock are both fine. They can survive for several days without eating and then gorge themselves. But they get more aggressive the longer they go without food, so you’ll want to avoid that,” Fior said.

“That’d be manageable,” Hattie said, “I can pack rations and we can hunt the rest.”

Fior nodded, “They prefer to be nocturnal, but will adapt to your schedule. The greatest concern I have in giving you a gold wolf is that it would see you as prey. You’d need to assert your dominance, but once the wolf realizes you're in charge, they get it. They’re intelligent creatures.”

“We can go tomorrow morning and see if we find one suitable for you.”

“How much would one cost?” Hattie asked.

Fior said, “They’re not cheap to maintain. The reason I bought them is to sell their pelts and meat as a specialty product. There are folks who are interested in that sort of thing, so,” Fior paused, and met Hattie’s eyes, “I’d say around three gold or so.”

“That seems reasonable,” Hattie said, after she calculated what she thought the cost of maintenance was, based on what she knew of what Duke Soliman's own hounds.

They moved onto the other topics then, the main issue having been discussed. Hattie discovered that the reason there was an abundance of furniture in the house was because Taiki was practicing to go apprentice as a carpenter.

“We’ll be sending him off to Rivershard next year to find a master,” Melanie said, shining with pride in her son.

After dinner, Melanie showed Hattied to an extra room upstairs, where a cozy bed in a gilded frame awaited her.

“Taiki made it,” Melanie said, “Rest well, and if you need anything, do ask.”

Hattie thanked her, and closed the door. She fell asleep moments after her head touched the pillow. It’d been a long day. About five thousand words worth.