One step and a scowl. Another step and a wince.

Jenny wasn’t happy at all. Every step hurt. Her sides smarted, the welts on her face burned, and her stomach ached. Even Biscuit’s magic hadn’t taken all of it away. She hadn’t managed to hit the rusty piece of armor once.

Still, Jenny felt good about it. After so many years, training again was a novel experience — even if she had to suffer under a brutal piece of metal. She reviewed the details of her new weapon. The spear still felt heavy and strange, but it was not unwieldy anymore. After hours of moving and trying different things, she felt more comfortable. She could see its advantages.

For one, it was heavier, making parrying or overwhelming other weapons easier. Jenny imagined someone with a one-handed sword trying to block her attacks. Also, with the reach, she could keep enemies at bay. If they couldn’t get closer enough, they couldn’t attack her. But it also had its cons. Unlike the short version of the weapon, Jenny couldn’t use a shield, the spear was simply too bulky for that, and if anyone did manage to get past her range, then she’d be relegated to trying to hit the enemy with the butt of the spear. She would need to focus a lot more on footwork.

The meandering tunnel upward led them to the overgrown garden. Jenny wanted to find more food and water before exploring the place. She also considered training with the rusted armor for a few more days. By now, she was probably a wanted criminal and branded a witch by the church. Getting used to weapons again was a good choice.

The weak orange sunlight cast the garden in a different light. Arriving from this side, Jenny imagined how it must have looked before it was abandoned. An underground garden was a novel idea. Despite all the overgrown flora, the place still looked majestic.

Biscuit hopped around and nibbled at the plant’s leaves.

Jenny left the rabbit to his— her devices. Jenny had her own priorities. She moved toward the orchard from early on before Biscuit led her to the berries. Jenny approached with caution, spear ready, eyes open. She didn’t think anything was here; otherwise, it would have attacked when she fell, but there was no reason to lower her guard.

The narrow pathway meandered through the overgrown vines until Jenny found the orchard again. The air was cool and moist. The faint rays of sunlight illuminated fungi and moss-covered walls and ceiling. The trees, with their deep green leaves, different from the ones on the surface, were short and laden with fruits that hung low, easy to pick. The fruits were also peculiar, akin to apples but rounder and redder.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Dripping water sounds caught Jenny’s attention. She closed her eyes. After a moment, she set out in the sound’s direction. It led to a crack in the cavern wall and, from inside, the noise of running water. Jenny was too big to go inside, but Biscuit wasn’t.

Jenny turned back toward the tunnel, where she last saw Biscuit. She didn’t pick any of the fruits. Better let Biscuit sniff them first. A rabbit would know if they were safe for consumption, right? She saw no sign of the white rabbit by the tunnel entrance.

“Biscuit?” Jenny called out.

A moment later, she heard the squeal in response.

Biscuit hopped out of one of the bushes. Her fur was in disarray and full of vines. Biscuit’s mouth was stained green, and she munched on a leave. The rabbit hopped closer, doing its silly dance around Jenny’s legs. “Wah eh eet, Eeh-nye?”

Jenny chuckled and then picked the critter up. “I found water, but I need your help.”

Biscuit nuzzled against her hand, still eating the leaves.

Jenny carried the rabbit to the orchard. Biscuit’s ears perked up before they even reached there. By the trees, the rabbit’s nose twitched a storm. Jenny held back a laugh; it was cute. They approached the crack, and Jenny dug inside the bag for the water skin with her free hand. She placed the rabbit down and pointed at the water container.

“I can’t reach it,” she started, “I need you to go in and fill the container for me.”

Biscuit nodded along with her words. Could the rabbit understand it? The rabbit dashed toward the rift in the rock, and soon after, Jenny heard a splash and a loud squealing.

“Biscuit? Are you alright?” She called out.

Her response was more squealing. Jenny got worried when a drenched rabbit walked out of the crack. Biscuit shook like a wet dog after a bath. It looked at Jenny and tittered away. It sounded interesting, but Jenny had no idea what the rabbit was talking about.

Biscuit bit down on the water skin and dragged it inside the crack.

Jenny heard grunting and dragging and, at some point, panicked, squeaking. A few minutes later, Biscuit returned, pulling the heavy, wet container. Jenny took it when the rabbit deposited it near her. She drank, long and slow.

The water tasted fresh and cold. It had an earthy taste Jenny actually liked. It didn’t taste as bitter as most cistern water after being boiled down. She kept drinking until the thing was empty. She sighed, happy and refreshed. She needed only a bath now.

Jenny placed the waterskin in front of Biscuit.

The rabbit looked at her, hurt and almost betrayed. Biscuit bit down and dragged herself inside the crack once more. Jenny heard grumbling that sounded like a kid complaining that it had to do chores. She smiled; it was cute.