The scent took River by surprise. She had expected it to be less obvious.

If the druids here were working together it would be a black mark on all of them. It seemed like they were beyond help, if this was the casual way that a Ragamuffin entered a tavern with food. She stopped herself from forming a weave to see the true nature of it, but only just. The crowd of cats might balk at magic displayed as such.

They would be able to smell it though.

They all knew something was different. Some of their twitching whiskers gave it away. Very quickly, River could tell that not everyone approved of this arrangement.

She nodded towards the plain cat. It was speaking with a cat next to the bar.

"They’re trouble," a tabby next to her said, "I'm glad you lot have them under control."

"Quite right," she replied, her world spinning.

"I heard that they are tough to wrangle," he said.

"That is true. No more than any other creatures."

River was clearly out on a limb. She needed to report this back up. Her two other rangers back at the valley would only be taking her emotions from the bond. She cursed her inability to speak to them.

Sela was right next to her and probably felt every twist and turn she had experienced. Her dissatisfaction pulsed. She felt him noticing it.

“It’s still so unsettling,” he said, gesturing, “If I didn’t know any better… but they were told to make themselves very clearly set apart. Oh, but you probably know better than me.”

She nodded, hoping to keep the cat talking.

“Anyway, a few more weeks here and I think we’ll make it past their lines,” he said.

“So confident? Every cat is in favor of a quick victory.”

“Quite right, but with all of you lot here now, it should be right quick now.”

River nodded, taking another drink, immediately burning it to keep her red mist strong. She packed it in now, trying to save as much as possible for later. Her internal stores would need to be strong for what came next.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

***

Freya walked through the fire that was eating fish. She’d thought that it would be strange, but it was far worse.

“Does it always taste mushy?” She asked Sela.

“No, this is particularly bad. You didn’t hear this from me, but I would never ever choose to eat from a badger chef. This is mission critical… if what River is telling me is true. She must be on to something.”

Freya pushed the thoughts of consuming a living being down. Being a cat, it felt natural. Coming from a mouse? It felt like a betrayal. She burned it immediately. Perhaps she could use the red mist to exact some sort of revenge.

“The only good thing about this is that they are not looking at me.”

“Only because Winter has such a calm, soothing voice. We need to get going before I’m recognized, though. I did slink around here for a few days before you arrived. This isn’t… your home, whatever it is.”

“We’re far from it.”

The two sipped on their mead, contemplatively. The noise of the raucous crowd kept them company.

“It’s time to move,” he said, drawing his cowl closer.

Freya quickly took an inventory of herself, and then drew her own hood. If she was pretending to be a ranger, she would do what they did. From what she saw Sela do repeatedly, he would move to anticipate a need that River had. In telling her that, he had signaled the context to her.

She moved to flank the door.

The otter, one the other hand, moved casually to place a few shiny trinkets on their table. He’d drawn them out of a pouch and they glinted. The door to her immediate left was open, and a shadow crossed it.

A figure wandered through and she realized that it had become late afternoon all of a sudden. The stitching along its arm gave her pause.

The creature had the same look and feel of a cat, but held a much softer, doughier complexion. Far from being a fluffy tabby, this cat looked like it’s hair was just sewn on. She didn’t catch a glimpse of its eyes, but she felt real fear for the second time that day. She also realized that it was between herself and River.

But what did she care? If River had called her little knife then she would live up to the reputation. The door closed again with a creak, making her see a glint of mist around the new creature.

The slight difference made it stand out, and she was certain that River would see it as well. She wondered if the ranger bond would pass along such a keen eye. The abilities conferred were great so far as she knew. It had to be, if it had River laid up for a few days to pass it along. For it to be worth it? She would pass that along only to the right creature. Perhaps a romantic gentlemouse?

She found herself imagining a future when a kindly otter tapped her on the shoulder. The light touch gave it away.

It was her signal to go, and she returned to the present.

“When this is all done, I’m going to need a week off to decompress,” she told Sela.

Behind them, River was walking ever so quietly.

Sela pulled Freya around a corner and held a paw to his lips.

Freya stepped back and drew her bow, cursing herself for not learning anything offensive.

“Damn the circle and their rules,” she whispered.

Heroes in the novels always were able to conjure up terrible attacks that would keep beasts off their guard. She had explosive arrows, if she hadn’t lost any, but she felt far too exposed to use them.

The tip of a normal arrow pointed back to the street, Freya drew. Ahead of her, Sela’s spear flashed into a ready stance