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Our Wandering Time
Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

The shoving and pushing was definitely still something to get used to, and I did what I could to minimize it on the way down the winding metal stairs until we reached the ground. I rubbed my left shoulder a little, I was still technically a toothless adventurer, and all this pounding was making me kind of sore, this new body of mine was, I don’t know quite how to say it…

Well, I was still ‘soft’. I wondered, if I’d been a bodybuilder in the other world, would my kitsune body have been jacked? There’s no way I’ll ever know the answer, but I did know I’d need to put some work in to toughen up a little.

The wait to see the schedule was a long one, and I spontaneously said, “Why don’t I go get food and lodging for us while you find out when tomorrow’s flight is?” I asked.

“If’n ye want lass, but we might be able to leave today.” Dwarguy pointed out, but I shot that down.

“Maybe, but there’s some things I want to try and it’ll be easier doing it in the countryside, if you two don’t mind, that is?” I asked.

Loysa cracked a little smile. “That’s more like it.” She said, though I didn’t know quite what she meant, she then added, “Go on, get a place and some food, we’ll meet you over there.” She said and pointed to a tree growing in the center of a large bench off to one side. There were a number of emplacements like that, the tree grew up in the center and provided shade to those who sat beneath. A practical set of waiting stations, and an easy way to pick a place to meet.

It was smart, and people used it as such. The smell of food was rich in the air, and I thought I even detected a few familiar flavors. My mouth started to water, and my tails, which I’d kept up to avoid any perverts or being stepped on again, began to wiggle with excitement.

I’d rather not mention what I ate, because try as I did to resist, I couldn’t, not completely, and I bought something from a street vendor, vowing to myself, ‘I won’t mention it, I don’t want Loysa to tell me I just ate a cat or something.’

Finding a place was easy too, there were wooden signs hanging out of almost every building showing food, or beds, or food and beds, and a few showing… various ‘postures’ for men and women. I knew what those places were for and it wasn’t rest. Though I suppose it would tire people out if they do it right.

I rolled my eyes, that was another thing about this world, I saw people shamelessly visit those places in the middle of the day. There seemed to be no separation of activities by hours. Whatever people seemed to feel like doing, if they weren’t doing something else, they’d just ‘do’.

It was unsettling in a way I can’t quite describe, like bringing home a new dog as a pet and hearing it meow. It wasn’t really ‘bad’ but it was certainly ‘wrong’ and threw me for a loop.

It was a relief when I reached the outskirts of the little travel town whose name I didn’t know or care about, and found a cozy looking little inn that was only one story high, it had a thatched roof and wooden gutters that ran over to a rain barrel that had been full for quite some time.

Perhaps it was because I was still hungry, or perhaps it was my kitsune nature being less of a picky eater than a human, but when my eyes fell on it, I knew what it was, snatched it up, and took a bite.

No, not a rodent, thanks be to the gods of this world.

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There was an honest to god pickle.

It crunched between my teeth and its delicious salty brine flavor exploded on my tongue. I perked up right away and decided ‘this’ would be where we’d stay.

The door was more familiar to me, being the sort that swung open, which was a nice change, and I found a desk to my right where a portly, middle aged human stood wearing an apron and a simple one piece dress that hung down to her knees. “Hi there.” She said with a cheery smile that immediately made me feel at home, her puffy cheeks were rosy colored and everything about her screamed motherliness.

“Welcome to the Hideaway Inn.” She said and thrust out both her hands to grab mine and shake it like we were old friends that hadn’t seen each other in forever. “The best little Inn in Hideaway.”

“Wait, this town is called ‘Hideaway’?” I asked. And her smile lit up.

“Yes. So many people come through here, but most don’t stay, so for those who do, it’s a wonderful little place to hide away from it all. No big factories, no big farms. Just lots of new friends and stories to collect.” She positively beamed with excitement as if I were a celebrity she’d longed to meet forever.

“The room will be ten creds per night, with two meals a day, but,” she leaned forward and let go of my hand, “it’s only five creds per night if you eat with us.”

Three rooms, one night, and fifteen creds. Or double the price? That was easy. Plus, I could hardly resist the pull of this place. There was a dining table on one side of the room that could seat six people, as well as a fireplace of roughcut stone held together with cement, it was already crackling with bright orange and red flames, little sparks went up to die out of sight, the wood glowed and a few chairs sat around it that were… honestly very nice. Thick cushioning and overstuffed with smooth polished wooden trim, it was surprisingly well made given the price of this place. And above the fire sat a painting, it wasn’t anything like Yorgim might have hung, fairly crude, really, done with multiple hands, obviously, as each figure was a little different. One was obviously the woman herself, though younger, and a russet haired man who looked to be in his thirties, and three small children. Two girls and a boy, all standing in front of that very fireplace.

A family portrait done by the whole family, crude, yes, but not terrible except in that it was terribly charming, obviously done over time and there were a multitude of happy expressions to be had, all close together, it was… very familial. Which I suppose was fitting.

I could smell good food coming from the far side of the room, I took another bite of my pickle, and she cocked her head. “Is that… a cucumber?” She asked, “Those go in salad, why would you eat one by itself?”

I shook my head, “No, it’s a pickle. It was a cucumber.”

“What’s a pickle?” She asked.

“A cucumber soaked in salty water. I found it in the rain barrel out there.” I explained.

She looked like she wanted to laugh, “So, a wet cucumber?” She asked.

“Kind of, but no. But yes. But also no.” I said and broke off a piece at the end, “Try it.” She took the tip as I tossed the rest of mine into my mouth and chewed its crunchy goodness with gusto.

I swallowed visibly and licked my lips while she looked from the little tip to me and back again before shrugging and popping it into her mouth. Her eyes went wide as the flavor hit.

“See?” I asked.

“How? What? Why? Where? I have questions!” She exclaimed.

I laughed and tilted my head back toward the door. “Water with salt and time is all it takes, I guess the rain barrel out there had salt in it at one point.”

“Amazing. I never knew it could do that.” She said and sucked in her cheeks as she sucked on the pickle fragment to get every bit of juice left.

“I’ll stay one night, and I’ll need three rooms, and we’d be happy to join you for dinner and breakfast.” I promised, and I meant it.

“Delightful.” She said, and held out her slate. I held out mine and paid for us, and she then reached out and shook my hand again, “Moira Mellon is my name, an if he weren’t busy cooking, I’d introduce you to my husband, Randir.”

“Aiko. Aiko Tsuniki.” I said, “I’ll go let my friends know I found a place.”

“Alright, Aiko, I look forward to seeing you and your friends soon.” She smiled, gave me a little wave, and it was impossible to doubt that she meant it.