“Will I be able to go back someday?” Lomi asked.

“Maybe when you're older. Ruvindale isn't too far from where you'll be living, honestly. So it's not impossible,” I said.

Lomi seemed to like that thought, but she still didn't smile.

She kept turning around, to stare at the ever growing distant city. We were walking along a tightly packed dirt road. Not even the hooves of the horses which passed us, or the heavy carts they pulled, were able to dig into the dirt.

The church and whatever lord ruled this territory spent money to keep it so properly tendered. Maybe they planned on even making a real road. One of stone. It'd let them expand their trade routes, at the least.

“Why didn't Renn come with us?” Lomi then asked.

I had expected this question, especially after having watched the young girl sob as she held onto the cat's neck for so long. It had been such a pain to wait that I had actually pulled them apart.

Renn had nearly hissed at me as I had done so, but it was time. We had spent too long there as it was.

Lomi I had expected... but I had not expected Renn to also try to stop me from separating them from one another. Animalistic instinct, or was that just her personality? To care deeply for those she saw as friends and family?

An oddly unique trait for a predator. Although usually fierce, and emotional, they were also normally solitary. Choosing to be alone more than as a pack.

“She is still joining the society. Spending some time in the same spot will do her good. You can see her again someday,” I said.

“Hm,” Lomi nodded, but didn't seem any less bothered.

If anything she looked more disappointed.

“I'm boring to travel with, I know,” I said.

She finally turned back around, to stare up at me. No longer longingly staring at the town. “You are kind of boring,” she said.

“So I've been told,” I admitted.

“Were you always boring?” she asked.

“I might have been. I think so,” I said. I didn't try to think of my youth, there was no point.

“Probably were,” she sighed. Lomi shook her head, as if she wasn't sure what to do with me. For such a young girl she seemed to already have quite an odd outlook on life.

Yet she was still just a little girl. Two nights in a row she had chosen to seek me out in the middle of the night. Suffering from nightmares and terrors. The rest of the Sleepy Artist all thought it was because of what had happened to her, but I knew it was something a little more recent.

She hadn't wanted to leave. She had been happy there. Comfortable. As odd as it were.

I understood Amber, but I hadn't expected her to also like Crane and Lughes.

Crane was an old grouch, and Lughes was so scatterbrained...

A fox... wanting to live with a crane and goat. Not the oddest, but also not a normal grouping.

Renn had been understandable. Foxes and cats weren't too far apart. Granted Renn was not some normal cat, but a large hunter, but their diluted blood only made it easier for them to be so similar.

Maybe it was wrong of me to take her to other foxes? Maybe I was making a mistake?

What if letting children mix with other kinds and types was the answer...?

Suddenly doubting myself, I stopped thinking for a moment. After all, thinking like that got me in trouble.

Eventually they'd stop loving each other, after all. It was instinctual.

Even the cat. Although she was old enough to last longer, it was bound to end badly eventually. Even if she herself didn't do anything. Crane or Lughes might simply wake up one night in terror, and panic. Resulting in either blood being spilled or...

There were many who found themselves coexisting, or even loving one another... but it was so, so rare for predators and prey to do so. Throughout all this time, and the thousands of those who tried, the number who succeeded in doing so could be counted on two hands.

Such a sad ratio. Such a disappointing truth.

Hopefully when I visited next time, I'd find my worries were unfounded.

Hopefully.

“How many people are going to be at my new home?” Lomi asked.

The same question again. I'd doubt her ability to remember if not for the fact that she always seemed happy to hear the answer.

“There had been four in the fox family. Two snakes, whom are elderly, and a squirrel,” I said.

She giggled, “A squirrel.”

“He's... a kind man,” I dared to say. After all he was, but at the same time it was hard for me to say it.

“Is the town big? Like that one?” she asked, glancing back at what was probably a distant blur on the horizon for her.

“No. But there's a town that size nearby. They grow the wheat for them. You'll see,” I said.

“Wheat...” she mumbled.

If she had been human she would have been happy. After all, the family she was going to join was wealthy. They were the sole providers of wheat for thousands of families.

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Yet our kind never cared much for wealth. The few who did only dedicated their time and energy to making money for more noble reasons. To support the Society, or keep track of the powerful humans.

They saw money as a tool. A weapon, against their enemies. Nothing more.

Lomi went quiet and drew closer to me as a carriage passed by. Two large northern horses pulled it along, and the man who held their reigns didn't even glance at us as he passed.

I didn't recognize the symbol on the carriage, but I assumed it was just a merchant. Maybe a noble one, maybe not.

“Is it fun? To ride those?” Lomi asked after she watched it for a moment.

“Some are uncomfortable. They bounce. But if you're old, or have difficulty walking then they're the best way to travel,” I said.

“Can we get one?” she asked.

“The Society has some. But by the time we went and got one, it'd be a waste of time,” I said.

Lomi hummed for a moment, and then smiled. “What if we bought one? Or made one?”

“Crafting one isn't easy. It'd take a long time too. We could purchase one, I suppose, but then people will notice. There're only a few places they're even made, so the humans are able to somewhat keep track of who buys what and where,” I explained.

“Keep track? Why?”

I sighed and wondered if spending time at the Sleepy Artist made her more... bold, when it came to being childish.

“Only the wealthy can afford them. The powerful. Humans like to keep tabs on the ones who are above them, or as strong as them. It's just how they are,” I said.

“Seems silly. Do they keep track of you then? Since you're so strong?” she asked.

“They've tried before,” I said honestly.

“Huh.”

Another horse passed us, but this time it was a sole rider. The horse had two large packs, bundled behind the rider, but no cart. The woman stared at us a little oddly as she passed. Enough to make me question what she had seen. Lomi's clothes and hat were now new and mended, I didn't need to worry over another mistake happening again... and I didn't even need to hide anything.

Had she recognized us? Or me? Or was it just the fact that a single man was traveling with a young girl?

Wives were lost often. Their medicines had yet to advance far enough to stop the lives lost from childbirth, and other common factors... so my being seen as a single father shouldn't be that strange. Not yet anyway.

“She stared at you,” Lomi said after she was out of earshot.

“She did, didn't she?” I agreed.

“Maybe she found you tasty?” she asked.

Smiling at her, I wondered where she had heard that from. The Sleepy Artist? Or something that her own parents had said at one time?

“I would be tasty,” I agreed.

Lomi giggled, obviously disagreeing with me... even if she herself probably didn't understand what she was saying at all.

“Still, this road is a lot busier than the last one we were on,” Lomi said. Glancing down the path, towards the forest, I could see another silhouette in the distance. Not someone on a horse, or carriage, but on foot.

“Large towns mean more chances for business.”

“Business,” she repeated the word as if it was annoying to hear.

“Plus the church is there now. That alone will cause traffic. People will travel here from their remote homes, or villages, to pray and ask for guidance,” I said.

“Prey?” she asked, and I noticed the way she said it.

“Had I said it oddly?” I asked.

“You said it like a hunter would,” she said with a smirk.

“Ah. So I had,” I nodded. I had.

“Does praying work?” Lomi then asked while studying me.

“Well... for some,” I said, trying to be as honest as I could.

“Some? You mean... only for the ones who believe, then?”

I sighed. “No. I mean sometimes praying is all one can do to stave off desolation,” I said gently.

“Des...” she tried to repeat the word, but failed.

Making sure the person approaching down the road was still a ways off, and wouldn't hear our conversation, I nodded to Lomi.

“When you were in the well, Lomi, did you not pray?” I asked her.

She slowly came to a stop, so I did as well. Staring down at the young girl, who now looked at me with wide eyes... I watched as she slowly nodded.

“See? Yet we do not worship their god. Yet still... you begged, and pleaded.” I spoke softly. As to not make her break.

“I see. I begged, and you showed up,” she said, just as softly.

“Oh... well, I hadn't really meant that, Lomi,” I said.

The young girl smiled softly, suddenly looking years older than she were. “I know,” was all she said.

Returning to walking, the young girl no longer had much pep in her step, but she wasn't crying. Wasn't trembling. Her back was straight, her shoulders proud.

“Hm,” I nodded, and joined her.

Such strong people. Yet so weak.

It was terrifying how similar to humans Lomi and the rest were.

Only a few generations ago, they had been more animal than not. More instinctual. More basic.

Yet now...

“The humans use their god for evil, often, Lomi. But remember that it is the human who swings the axe, or lights the fire, not that god,” I said.

She glanced at me, and I watched the way she soaked in my words. Tried to understand them. Reached her own conclusions.

“But they made god, didn't they?” she asked.

Smiling softly, I nodded. Yes. That was usually the first thing one would think.

“Do we have one?” she asked.

“A god? Some of us do. Others believe in the same god the humans do. A few think they're a god themselves,” I said.

Lomi tilted her head, and I noticed even through her thick hat that her ears twitched. “God themselves?”

“Well... sometimes people just... are very confident in themselves,” I said, unsure of how else to phrase it for her.

She frowned, and I knew I had done a bad job of explaining it. If anything a horrible job.

“If you ever meet anyone who declares themselves a higher being, just ignore them. Or run from them, honestly,” I said.

“Oh...?” she nodded, but didn't seem to really understand.

“Those people are more trouble than they're worth,” I added.

“Amber said you're sometimes more trouble than you're worth,” she said.

“I'm sure she did,” I said.

Lomi smiled, seemed talking about her friends made her happy.

“Will we get there before the snow melts?” she asked.

“Yes. Especially since another layer will come soon,” I said. I didn't even need to see the heavy storm clouds in the distance to say that. Winter wasn't over just yet.

The lone traveler finally drew close enough that Lomi and I went quiet. The man looked a little haggard, but not diseased or hurt... just tired. He didn't even lift his head to look at us as we passed one another, and not because he was trying to hide.

Had he traveled all through the night maybe? He looked exhausted enough to fall over at any moment.

It didn't take long for us to separate, and the distance between us to grow larger and larger.

“He was tired,” Lomi said.

“Very.” Maybe something had happened along the road.

Odds were either wolves or brigands. It was too cold for bears still, and if it had been a large bear that was still awake and not hibernating then that man wouldn't have been unharmed.

“He needs a carriage,” Lomi said.

“He does,” I agreed.

“We do too,” she sighed.

With a sigh I nodded.

Of course we did.