“She’s asleep,” I said to Vim as I entered the kitchen.

He was standing in front of a large pot which was hanging over hot coals.

“Hm,” Vim nodded as he slowly stirred the stew.

Stepping up to the pot, I glanced in and saw the contents. Meat, vegetables, and the broth was a dark brown.

“Here,” Vim then offered me the large spoon he was using to stir.

I accepted the responsibility of stirring as Vim stepped away to the nearby oven. This kitchen was actually one of the biggest rooms in the whole building, and from what I could tell there was nothing above it. The second floor was only half the house.

With just his bare hands Vim reached into the large hole in the stone wall and pulled out an iron cast sheet. The steaming bread on top of it smelled wonderful, and made me wonder how Rapti could sleep through such smells.

While I stirred I watched Vim put the hot sheet onto a nearby counter. He quickly went to removing the bread from the iron, putting it on another counter which still had flour sprinkled on it.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” I said.

“Who doesn’t?” he asked as he went to preparing the bread for our meal.

“Well...” I quickly thought of a few people, myself included.

He glanced at me, and I looked away from him.

It wasn’t like I couldn’t cook anything at all... I just...

Sneaking a peak at his handiwork, I watched as he used a knife to quickly and easily cut the large piece of bread into many smaller ones. It took him only a few moments to reduce a large bulbous chunk of bread into dozens of small hand sized...

“Bowls?” I asked, wondering why he had cut them that way.

“They are, kind of, aren’t they?” Vim said plainly. He sounded bored.

Once he was done he went back to the wall next to me, where he had pulled the bread out from. He shut a black metal plate over the hole, closing the oven off. After that he shut a similar plate beneath it, at the bottom of the wall near the floor. It was there that a small fire roared, full of charcoal and wood.

The coals sitting beneath the pot I stirred had actually come from that hole. He had simply scrapped them out, after it had been lit long enough.

Vim studied the pot I stirred for a moment, and I wondered if I wasn’t stirring correctly... but he said nothing as he nodded and stepped away.

A long rumble made my ears and tail move as I looked behind me. To a small window, covered by a thick curtain.

It was the middle of the day, yet not a single amount of light could be seen... and not just because the curtain was too strong. The storm had arrived. The rain and wind hadn’t hit us just yet, but the dark clouds surely had.

Not only was it dark... it was getting cold. I was now a little thankful to be standing in front of a bunch of hot coals, and a smouldering pot.

“She just went to sleep... won’t it get cold?” I asked him, realizing that the food would probably get cold very quickly once we stopped cooking it. Thanks to the storm.

“That pot will simmer all night, she’ll be fine,” he said.

“What about the bread?” I asked. My mouth was watering from the smell alone of it, and I felt bad for Rapti... the bread would become hard and cold by the time she woke.

“You put the stew into the bread Renn. It’ll warm and soften it up, you’ll see,” Vim said.

“Oh... Oh?” I glanced at the strew I was making and realized what he planned on doing with the bread. It wasn’t a side, but a part of the meal itself.

“Don’t drool into the stew,” he warned.

I stepped a tiny bit back to make sure I didn’t. “I’m not that bad,” I said quickly, gulping a little.

“Sure,” he sarcastically agreed.

A little embarrassed, I decided to look around the kitchen. It was... clean, but there was something about it.

It felt a little empty honestly.

The Sleepy Artist had a lot in its kitchen. Stuff hanging from walls. Shelves and racks. Pots stacked in a corner.

Even the little lodge cabin Nory and I had lived in had a small kitchen. And it had been rather messy too... but that might have just been because of the size. It was just a small corner in the room.

Here though...

A few pans on a shelf. Some tools and utensils on a rack, hanging off large nails. There were only a few knives.

The fanciest part was the oven area. Where I stood. There were two internal ovens, and room between them for things like this pot. It was big enough one could even spit roast a large animal if they wanted to.

There were two countertops, made of flat stone... a large table in the center, but it only had two chairs...

“Does she live alone?” I asked.

“Of course she does,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why can’t she?” Vim asked as he went to cleaning the counter he had made a mess. There were remnants of the food he had chopped and prepared for the stew, and the flour from the bread.

“Well... Everywhere else I’ve been, no one’s been alone,” I said.

The Sleepy Artist. Lomi’s home had dozens of families. The Owl’s Nest was a large family, even if most hadn’t been there... Twin Hills...

“You’ve been to three. Hardly many,” he said.

“Well... that’s true,” I admitted.

After a moment I heard Vim sigh. I turned to glance at him and found him pointing one of the thick knives at me. The one he had used to cut the bread. “She prefers to live alone. She’s a devout believer in her faith, in case you haven’t noticed,” Vim said.

I had noticed...

Her bedroom, which I had just left her in...

It was empty.

A bed. A small dresser, barely big enough to hold more than a few sets of clothes...

Nothing else. Not even a rug.

“So no husband,” I whispered.

“Feh,” Vim scoffed as if he found that funny.

Glaring at him, I had to stop stirring for a moment since I had done so too roughly. A small bit of the stew’s broth had splattered out.

Wait...

“Most of our kind. The Society... what do they think of the church?” I asked him.

“Oh I don’t know. Only half of our members have lost someone to them, in one form of another, so I have no idea,” Vim said.

Sighing I nodded. Yes. I deserved that sarcastic tone.

“So no one likes her,” I whispered.

“Well... no. I didn’t mean it that way Renn. Didn’t you just hear that people visited her?” Vim asked.

“Oh. Yes. I did,” I nodded. I had wanted to hear more of them. Twins? Did they mean that literally? So siblings born at the same time? And they owned a boat? I’d love meet them.

Vim brushed his hands together as he walked back to the pot. Looked like he was done cleaning up after himself.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Is this place special to her? Like how Twin Hills was special to Trixalla?” I asked.

“No, she just likes it here for whatever reason. Settled down years ago,” Vim said as he watched me stir.

Feeling a little conscious thanks to his gaze, I did my best to not accidentally spill more. Maybe he was upset because of it.

“She was Crane’s friend?” I asked, hoping to keep both him and myself distracted.

“Verily. Which is why I had to tell her so quickly. It would have been rude not to,” Vim said.

I nodded, since I understood that. As she broke down and cried, Vim had roughly explained what had happened. And what he thought was the result.

He thought they were dead, but there was a chance they’d appear someday. He couldn’t confirm their survival, and as such chose to expect the worst.

Somehow that made it... sad. It meant he always expected the worse outcome.

“She’ll wake up in a better mood,” Vim said, and then stepped away. To grab something off a nearby shelf.

“I hope so,” I whispered. She had... really cried. So much, and so purely, that I had cried myself.

Glancing at Vim as he grabbed some kind of glass bottle off the shelf, I remembered the look on his face when I had wrapped Rapti up in a hug as she sobbed.

When I had glanced at him... I had expected a confused look, or an incredulous one. One that made me feel awkward or ashamed.

Instead I had found a warm smile.

A roll of thunder drew me from my thoughts.

I gulped away the smile the memory had given me as Vim returned to the pot, as to pour some of the little glass bottle’s contents into it.

Watching the black flakes fall, I frowned at the smell of them. “Some kind of spice?” I asked.

He stopped quickly, only putting a little in. “Pepper.”

“Pepper...” I hadn’t heard of it. It smelled strongly though.

“It’s good,” he said, confident.

“I hope so...” My nose didn’t seem to like it... but maybe it’d not be as bad once it soaked in the stew itself for awhile.

Vim put the glass bottle back and I picked up the stirring... to hopefully get the stuff to mix in as fast as possible.

“Still want to help me Renn? You’ll end up breaking hearts as you’ve seen,” Vim then said with his back to me.

My stirring stopped, and I opened my mouth to say something. But my mind whirled, quickly understanding exactly what he had said.

This was a common thing.

To bring and give bad news. The kind of news that made people break.

Looking away from him, I was glad that I had taken a small step back away from the pot earlier. My eyes were watering, and I didn’t want to cry into the stew.

“I didn’t mind crying with her,” I whispered.

“I saw.”

“It’s not always bad though, Vim... I saw Lughes and the rest when you entered with Lomi. I saw Lomi and her new family. I saw Lilly and Windle, they seemed happy,” I argued.

“Happy? Those two?” he asked.

“They were,” I nodded, confident. I’d not let him tease me about them.

“I suppose they are,” he sighed.

Didn’t he realize it? Although Lilly chastised him and gave him grief... she had genuinely loved that man. Cherished him beyond measure.

She had abandoned her own desire to fight and wage war, to stay with him. That had to mean something.

For a long moment neither of us talked... Vim sat down at the kitchen table with a small huff, and I didn’t like the awkward silence that followed.

Was I supposed to have not agreed with him? Or had he only said that earlier comment without much meaning, and I had taken it too seriously?

Or had I failed somehow? Had he wanted a different answer...?

Blinking watery eyes, I was glad they seemed to stop being blurry quickly. Maybe I had cried myself out already from earlier.

“Rapti seems nice,” I said softly.

“She is. Until you preach heresy,” Vim said.

Heresy?

Glancing at him, he nodded. “As I said. Devout.”

Ah... he meant that literally then.

“Hm...” Did that mean Lilly and Rapti weren’t on good terms? Lilly had mentioned her hate for the church quite a few times when I had traveled with her.

“Ah... I’ll be back,” Vim then suddenly stood from his seat. He did so, so suddenly, I startled.

“Huh?” I watched him leave as he gestured for me to keep doing what I was doing.

Listening to him leave, I heard him head farther down the hall. To the right, past the stairs.

I hadn’t gone to that side of the house yet, but I assumed it was where the bathroom was. I hadn’t seen it yet after all.

There were two rooms upstairs, and a small loft. Which had a small table and chair. Then downstairs, a large living room... this kitchen, and the two rooms in the front which held a lot of books.

Straining my ears, I realized I heard snoring. It was light, but...

Smiling softly at Rapti’s snoring, I realized I was probably going to struggle to sleep if the only other place to sleep was in the room opposite of hers. At that distance I’d hear that snoring so distinctively well, it’d make it difficult to fall asleep.

“Yet it’s cute,” I admitted.

The Sleepy Artist had been rather quiet, honestly. Sometimes I heard Amber rummaging around at night, since she had seemed to struggle to sleep on occasion... but other than that...

“Hm...” I felt my chest tighten at the thought of Amber.

Then I heard a match. Something sparked, and I heard a flame elsewhere. And not from the nearby ovens, or the fireplace in the living room.

I frowned as I listened to the sounds, and then heard what was obviously wood being stacked on top of each other.

Was Vim starting a fire somewhere?

After a moment I heard Vim again. He sighed at something and then came back into the kitchen.

“Go take a bath,” he said.

“Huh?” I went still as he approached, to take over in the stirring.

He gestured to the door. “Down the hall. The small room at the end on the right. Take a bath,” he said.

“Oh... I feel okay?” Was he worried I felt weird because we had gotten a little wet? I mean sure it wasn’t the greatest feeling but...

“You stink. Don’t go sleeping in Rapti’s clothes and bed like that, it’s rude,” he said and grabbed the handle from me.

“Stink!” I stepped back and quickly tried to smell myself.

Did I? No... I smelled myself, yes, but it wasn’t that bad. If anything I could smell the clothes I wore now more than anything. They smelled old.

Vim gave me a look as he stood there, holding the large spoon without stirring.

“Do I really...?” I asked, a little worried. If I did... then that meant all this time I hadn’t realized it. Since I obviously couldn’t smell anything bad. This meant all this time I probably had stunk and...

“Not really. But we’ll be on the road for a week or so before our next opportunity, so go while you can,” Vim then said as he looked away from me. He went to stirring as if he hadn’t just...

Unsure of what to say, or do, I felt my ears twitch, and then felt my tail brush up against the nearby kitchen table. I was frazzled.

Shifting a little, I blinked and wondered if I really did stink though... What if he had just simply seen my expression, and felt bad... and then told me I didn’t, but I really did and...

“Jeez Renn. You don’t. You have a scent but all of us do. It’s not bad either, so just go bathe real quick and stop looking like I just broke your heart,” Vim said with a nod of the head.

“You didn’t break it... you just shook it,” I admitted.

He sighed and nodded, as if accepting defeat.

Stepping up to him, I took a small yet deep breath right behind his back.

I smelled the stew. The flour. The bread... wood, most likely from the fire he had just started for the bath.

Yet I couldn’t smell him.

He glanced at me, but didn’t say anything or try to stop me. Instead he looked away and returned his focus on the stew.

For a few moments I focused on him, and tried to find his scent.

Even with my eyes closed, and nearly up against him... I couldn’t smell anything.

“You don’t smell at all,” I said.

“So I’ve heard,” he said.

“No... I mean... I can’t even smell your clothes. You’ve been wearing these since I’ve met you, why don’t they stink at least?” I asked. They didn’t look... too bad, but they did definitely show their wear. They weren’t grimy, but were far from unused. It was part of the reason he looked so average. He looked like any other fisherman or farmer you’d pass on the road.

“I know you want me to stink because of what I said, but come on,” Vim said.

Stepping around him, I tried to take a deep breath again, thinking maybe another angle would work... but instead all I got was a deep smell of the brewing stew.

It smelled delicious.

“And now you’re drooling,” Vim said with a strange tone.

Licking my lips I looked up at him and smiled at his odd frown. He must find me ridiculous.

“Most men stink. Or at least smell of what they wear or their breath...” I said. Most smelled of whatever they had just drank, especially when it was liquor.

“I’ll take your word for that. I don’t make a habit of smelling other men,” he said.

Laughing at him, I nodded and stepped away. Slowly heading to the hallway, I paused for a moment and glanced down the hallway. It was a little dark... the storm had arrived, even though it hadn’t really started raining yet.

No...

Tilting my head upward, I listened intently and found that there was indeed raindrops. Little drops landed on the metal roof creating a chorus of sound. They were slowly growing in number.

“The storms here,” I said.

“The storms been here for an hour,” Vim corrected me.

I shrugged, since I had never really found clouds alone to be a storm themselves. After all, one didn’t think dark clouds alone when they thought of a storm.

They thought of rain. Wind. Lightning and thunder!

“Don’t eat without me,” I said to him.

“Get going. I’ll start thinking you’re really just a normal cat if you keep acting as if you’re afraid of a simple bath,” he teased.

Smiling at him I nodded. That was a common assumption.

Heading down the hall, I hesitated a moment... then stepped backwards. To peek into the kitchen.

Vim stood before the stew, and was stirring gently. He had a... small yet gentle smile on his face.

Turning away and heading down the hall for real this time, I blinked the memory of that smile away. To tuck it deep inside me.

Somehow it had seemed precious.

Finding the bath was easy.

Ignoring Rapti’s loud snores mixed into the thunderous rumbles of the storm wasn’t.