The storm had died down a little. The fresh morning breeze was not as chilly as it could have been, and the whole world had been painted over with a layer of white.

My seat was a little damp, but that was my fault. I had been too lazy to bring a chair from inside the house, and had instead just brushed off the snow and sat down.

The world wasn't that quiet. Voices lingered from inside. People talking down the street told me that work was being done. Smoke from chimneys littered the sky, and every so often birds flew by while chirping at each other.

It's only been a few days since we arrived, and I already wanted to leave... but I knew I couldn't.

Lomi was having far too much fun for me to tear her away just yet.

Her laughter, which I could just barely make out from inside the house, was why I sat out here on the balcony.

I was not so cruel as to hate such happy joy, but honestly it was too much for me.

Plus it was good for her to spend some time with fellow women.

Lughes had left to meet a client. I had offered to join him, but he had said my cloudy expression would sully the art.

“The fact he was so serious almost makes it hurt more,” I said to myself.

Amber, Crane and the new-blood were occupying Lomi. They had been in the kitchen, but now it sounded like they were a floor higher. In a bedroom maybe?

A dog barked from a few streets over, and a baby cried elsewhere. Closing my eyes, I took in the random, yet very normal sounds of the city around me.

The air was thick with the smell of burning wood. Every so often a light breeze blew by, and I got a breath of fresh air. I liked to hear the people talking, as well. Even during the cold, and with the layer of snow, they were still out and about. Shopping. Working. Earlier a couple had been walking by, just walking, and enjoying the day.

The Sleepy Artist would survive awhile longer, by what I could hear and see.

When there was peace, it was usually safer for those in the society. Humans became complacent. They began to lose their situational awareness around themselves. They stopped looking at their neighbors as strangers, and instead as family... in a way.

Yet, the moment war or chaos sewed their seeds that all changed.

Suddenly your neighbors were your enemies. Suddenly you began to notice the strange. The out of place.

Like how a woman's neck was a little longer than it should be. Like how a man's beard was strangely thick.

“Enough,” I told myself, and forced the thoughts away.

This balcony was meant to be a place to relax. A place to rest. It was on the third floor, and facing the back street. There were no other buildings this high here, and no other balconies. Here one could sit and not be bothered, and not noticed. Even Lomi could sit here, without her hat, and be safe. Safe enough, at least.

Yet here I was, brooding as if I were a king with a whole kingdom of worries.

“That's a troubled face.”

I blinked, and looked to my left. The door was open, and a gentle smile was greeting me.

“What is it?” I asked, since I noticed Renn was alone. I could smell Lomi upon her, but didn't see anyone else.

“Can I sit with you? Though if you don't mind I'd like to get that chair instead,” Renn asked, pointing to a small wooden stool not too far from the door. One of the ones I should have grabbed myself, earlier.

Sighing, I wondered if I was willing to make her hate me or not.

“Sure,” I said, and wondered why I wasn't willing to.

“Hm,” she happily nodded and retreated back into the house, grabbing the small stool.

Placing it not far from me, simply thanks to the lack of space to do anything else, I sighed and moved my legs position a little so we'd not be touching.

“Close the door,” I said, right before she sat down.

Renn paused, and went to do so. Seemed she had simply forgotten.

The door shut quietly, and she took her seat.

“What's the kid doing?” I asked.

“Painting. With Amber,” Renn said.

I noticed the warm tone in her voice. She sounded...

“Don't like art?” I asked.

“No! I do... I really enjoyed it... but I had to leave,” she said quickly.

Studying her, I wondered if those glossy eyes had been crying earlier.

“I know the feeling,” I said honestly.

Looking out into the city, I noticed a few new tufts of smoke. More fireplaces had been lit.

“You do, don't you?” she asked.

“And? So what questions do you have for me now?” I asked her.

She has made a habit of coming up to me and asking questions. These last couple days we hadn't had much time alone. She spent most the day with Lomi and the rest. I was thankful for that, but honestly her questions weren't that bad. Most were simply about the society, but a few were sometimes a little...

“Why doesn't Shelldon come out? To say hi to you at least?” she asked.

Like this.

Shifting a little, I ignored the clump of snow my foot brushed up against. “He's a coward. I scare him,” I said.

“Oh... so Crane was being serious,” she said.

“Don't know what she told you, but yes. Shelldon is scared of me. He'll talk to me if I force it, like if I went down into the basement and confronted him... but he'll never willingly show himself in front of me,” I said.

“Did you do something mean to him?”

“Well... maybe. I yelled at him once,” I said.

“For what?”

“That's a private matter. You can ask him,” I said.

She didn't persist, but instead nodded. As if that made perfect sense... as if she did indeed plan to ask him.

“How much longer will you be here? With Lomi?” she asked.

“Probably another week or two. We can't wait for winter to pass, since I have other places I need to check on. But I want to give her some time here, since she seems to enjoy it,” I said.

“That's kind of you.”

“It's a necessity. I've seen those much older than her break from such trauma. Little moments of happiness like this keep the soul together,” I said.

“Not sure if I should praise you or chastise you,” she then said.

“How about neither?”

She huffed, and looked away from me. To the cityscape before us.

“I like it here,” she said.

“Then stay.”

She glanced at me, and I knew from her expression what she wanted to ask. What she feared to ask.

I nodded. “I'll allow it. If you'd like to stay here, as long as you got permission from the residents, then do so. Do know I mean all of the residents, that includes Shelldon,” I said.

Renn's fingers coiled around one another, as they twirled. It seemed it was a habit of hers. “Can I really?” she asked.

“Did you expect me to say no?”

“I did. I thought you'd force me to earn your trust,” she said.

“And how would you do that, exactly?”

The woman fidgeted and shook her head. She had no clue.

“Life is all about risks. I let you stay, there's a risk to those too feeble to protect themselves. And I don't just mean from you yourself. Yet what should I do? Never let anyone try? Never give people a chance? We're called a society. A society is a band of people, working together. Can't really do that if you never give someone the chance to prove themselves,” I said.

“Did you make the society?” she asked.

“No. I simply protect it,” I said.

Least I tried to.

“Who did?”

“No one you'd know,” I said.

“Ah. A secret. This supposed society sure does have a lot of them,” she said.

“Secrets are valuable. If you want one, you need to pay the price for it.”

“So I can buy them? What's the cost?” she asked, interested.

“They do say cats have nine lives,” I said.

She huffed, yet smiled. “That is what they say.”

Sitting in silence for a moment, I tried to think of which location suited her best.

There were a few predators still. More than most knew about... but most were solitary creatures. Living either completely alone, far away from anyone and anything, or lived in human cities on their own.

It was a good thing the ones she found to introduce her to the Society were Lughes and Crane. People who not only wouldn't shy away from a predator, but were also willing to coexist with one.

“Most... most struggle,” I said, choosing my words carefully. Renn glanced at me, and I continued, “Most struggle to live with each other. Separate species, I guess you can call it. There aren't many places where more than one kind of peoples live together. In fact only a handful, that are left,” I said.

“I see,” she said gently.

“Other than the cat family in the south I spoke of, there's a larger town to the east. One where many different kinds live. The largest conglomerate of the society. Most of the village is non-humans, in fact. The problem there is you'd be the only predator. The only hunter. Everyone else would be prey,” I said.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Which might cause problems,” she said.

“Little ones. But problems nonetheless. It's just reality. One of the families there are bunnies. Rabbits. No they don't multiply like them,” I said, stopping the stupid joke that had crept to her forethought's. “But they are like Shelldon. If a hunter, a real one like yourself, took residence nearby... they might actually run away.”

“I'd hate to be the cause of such discord,” she said.

“I'm bad enough when it comes to that. There are a few places, a few families I can think of where you'd be accepted. Might even enjoy them. Yet at the same time you might wander all through the land, to each one, only to wind up back here,” I said.

“I see... thank you, for telling me. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you,” Renn said.

“Everything is easy for me,” I said back.

Her smile told me she knew full well how deep of a lie that was.

“Where do you live?” she then asked.

“Nowhere. I travel, constantly. Have to. Even with me always going from one place to the next, I rarely am there when I need to be.”

She nodded, as if in understanding. Maybe she did.

A large bird flew by, causing Renn to look up. Her ears perked as she did, and I realized they were probably her dominant ones.

There were a few like her, and Lomi, who had separate ears. Yet it seemed unlike Lomi, hers were fully functional.

I'd need to remember that. That meant she could hear as well as I could. She could hear the whispers of mice.

That meant she was more pure-blooded than most.

Which meant she was older than she seemed.

“Do you have anyone else?” I asked her.

She blinked, her eyes leaving the far off hawk to come back to my own.

“Family? Friends? Humans even?” I asked her.

“No... I had lived with a human, Nory, for the last few decades. She recently died, which is why I'm now here,” she said.

“Before that?” I asked.

Renn hesitated, as she sat up straight. Maybe she thought I was interrogating her. “I traveled. For many years. Sometimes I stuck around in places for awhile, I spent many years in a coastal town called Pryti. I had to leave because people began to notice I hadn't aged.”

“Before then?” I asked.

“Before that I... traveled with a pair of children. Human children. I stuck with them until they were both older. One died of disease, the other settled down with a family. I left after their second child had been born,” she said. She spoke honestly, and clearly. It seemed she'd answer almost any question I had.

“Why'd you stay with them for so long?” I asked. Sticking with a human from children to old age was a long time, even for our people.

“I loved them. I... was like a mother to them, I guess. If I look back at it now, that's how I felt I think,” she said.

“Have you been a mother?”

“No. Do you ask that because you're thinking if I'd be a good one for Lomi?” she asked with an odd smile.

I was about to say no, and then realized that wasn't right.

That was why I had wanted to know, wasn't it?

“Possibly. Before the children, what about then?” I asked, doing my best to not only change the subject but my own thoughts.

“I had been alone. Probably... twenty years or so, I think. Then I was with my family. We lived together, all of us. In a forest,” she said.

“Alone? With your family, I mean,” I asked.

“Oh. Yes. My parents absolutely hated humans. Despised them. Killed them on sight,” she said.

“Yet raised a daughter who falls in love with them,” I said.

Renn's face contorted into annoyance as her shoulders went a little taught. As if she was holding herself back from reaching out to smack me.

“There's no shame in it,” I said gently.

“I know. And I know you didn't actually mean any ill, but the tone you used hurt me,” she said.

Blinking, I wondered what tone I had used. I hadn't meant it in that bad of a way... in fact, I had actually meant it...

“Don't say anything. I can tell you didn't mean that. Just... let me quiet my heart for a moment, please,” Renn then said with a raised hand, to stop me from saying anything.

Sitting back, I nodded and went quiet.

Renn's face scrunched up as she very obviously tried to keep her emotions under control, and I realized why I had doubted her age.

She was old. Yet...

She obviously didn't have much experience with those like me. Those like our kind.

Most of her experience seemed to be with humans. Unless she had omitted a great deal, it seemed that after leaving her family she had only spent time with humans.

With a deep breath, she finally seemed to return to normal. A small smile even planted itself on her face.

“Well done,” I praised her.

Her smile went awry as she blushed, and looked away. “Thanks.”

“Your family. They're gone?” I asked her.

I immediately regretted asking, as I watched her happy glow die off like a candle would with a sneeze.

“Yes.”

“Then all the more reason to join the society. You need not rush the decision, but take care on taking too long in picking a home. If you dally, your options will become fewer and fewer,” I said.

Renn opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. I knew what bothered her, since I had been the one to address it, but that didn't mean I was willing to wait for her to gather her nerve and ask it.

“Is it that bad?” she asked gently.

“Worse. But don't worry about it. At least not right now,” I said.

“Let you worry about it, you mean,” she stated.

Glancing at her, I wondered if I looked like I was worrying in her eyes.

“Have you ever met a king?” I asked her.

She blinked and shook her head.

“I've met many. Kings. Queens. Rulers. Tyrants. Want to know what they all shared? A similarity that transcends not just race, sex, but even time?” I asked her.

“What?” she whispered her question.

“Fear.”

Her jaw went taught as she understood my meaning.

I gestured to the world before us. The white sitting under the smoky grey. “They fear uprisings. They fear rebellion. They fear pestilence. Famine, religious fundamentalism, economic collapse, familial betrayal, and so on and so forth,” I said.

“Sounds sad,” she said.

“It is,” I nodded.

“It's their job though, isn't it? To worry over their kingdom. Their subjects,” she said as she stretched a foot out to lightly step on a nearby pile of snow.

Her foot left toe prints as she played with the snow. “It is. That's my point. I'm the protector. It's my job to protect. My job to worry. I'd be a bad guardian if I didn't fret,” I said.

“Is there a king? Or ruler? Of our society?” she asked.

“No. There used to be. She's dead,” I said.

“No one's tried to take her place?” Renn kicked some snow away, ruining her toe prints.

“Why would they? No one really gets along very well. They're all more distant friends than anything else. Lughes loves to paint others, yet he'll turn and ask you why you're still here once the paint dries,” I said.

“Oh... will he do that to me too?” she asked, suddenly worried.

“Has he painted you yet?” I asked.

“Mostly.”

“Ah... then who knows? You'll find out soon,” I said, amused.

She grumbled, and I could tell she knew I was mostly teasing.

Renn sighed, and I noticed the wind picked up a little. Far off in the distance I could see new storm clouds rumbling towards us. Another layer of snow would blanket this section of the world tonight.

I enjoyed storms. Sometimes when the world becoming as chaotic and turbulent as my mind and heart, it usually put me at ease. If even the great vastness around me could struggle, then maybe my struggling wasn't too bad.

“Can I ask you something a little personal, Vim?” Renn then asked with a whisper.

“You can,” I said. Though doubted I'd answer.

“Are you strong?”

Frowning at her question, I glanced at her. She was studying me with her golden eyes, looking as apprehensive as a newborn fawn.

“I am.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I wondered if she doubted me. More so, I wondered if she thought herself stronger.

“Lomi mentioned you killed a man. Before you boarded the ferry,” she said gently.

“Did she?” I asked. That was a surprise. I had figured she'd blame herself, and thus keep it quiet. They usually did.

“She cried,” Renn said.

“I'm sure.” That was more believable.

“I've always been stronger than most,” she said.

“I'm sure,” I repeated, and believed again.

Her eyes narrowed, and I wondered if she thought I was being sarcastic.

“Yet you're even greater, aren't you?” she though said, even though her face told me she was a tad upset.

“Likely.”

Renn went silent for a moment, even though her eyes never left mine. They still glared at me, but hidden beneath that stare was... worry? Fear? Was she scared of me too? She hadn't shown such fear before. Worry, yes. Concern, yes... but not fear.

Still it was odd. Had this woman, and the rest of them, already become close enough with that young fox for her to reveal such things already? What else had she told them? What other secrets?

I should have warned her. I'll need to pull her aside later, to at least make sure she didn't reveal anything about Elk and his family.

The woman next to me suddenly took a small breath, as if startled... and nodded.

“Then... why are we losing?” she finally asked her real question.

Relaxing a little, I made sure to not let my relief appear on my face.

Was that all she wanted to know?

“Say I gave you spear,” I said to her, gesturing to her with an open palm.

She blinked and nodded.

“A spear so sharp, that a mere... touch could kill anyone and everything. No matter how deep it punctured. No matter how strong the arm that threw it. The spear always killed its enemy,” I continued.

She nodded again, but I noticed the way her hardened eyes softened. She was wiser than I had thought; she had already understood what I was trying to say.

Yet still, I continued. “Yet, how well would that spear do, you think... If before it was an army? One might argue that given enough time, you'd stab or even poke, enough to kill them all... but what if there were two armies? Three? How many would it take before even that almighty spear would fall? How long until it shattered, like the basic branch it was made from?” I asked her.

“Not long at all,” she whispered.

I nodded. “A bad analogy but it gets the point across. I can't kill everyone. I can't slaughter every human there is. And even if I did, it's not like that suddenly makes us all safe and happy. Did I not just recently tell you of a whole village wiped out, not by human hands but our own?”

She nodded, and gave off a heavy sigh. As if she was burdened greatly.

“There are more enemies than the humans. There is time. Disease. Ailments. Strife. And those are even harder to face than the humans. All we can do is struggle. All we can do is endeavor and persevere. I just try to... help, when and where I can,” I said.

“I see. I understand. I'm sorry if my question seemed rude and accusing,” she said.

“It didn't. I get it often. Especially after I fail,” I said.

“Hm...” She seemed like she wanted to say something, but decided against it.

“Plus not all humans are enemies. There are just as many like Amber as there are we. Hell, many are now family if not by blood at least by marriage,” I said.

“Oh? It's possible?” she asked, surprised.

“For some. Though usually the offspring is completely human. Out of all the mixed children I know, only a handful have ever shown their animal traits. And even then not as prominent as their parent,” I said.

“I see... Seems then that would be the most optimal solution, wouldn't it be?”

It was my turn to blink and stare at her.

She didn't notice my look, as she stared at the floor. To where her feet messed with an ever growing mess of snow. She was lost in thought.

“Some have said so. Others would die before they'd accept it,” I said.

Renn smiled softly and nodded.

Ah... her parents had hated humans she had said. Those were probably the faces in her mind now.

Had I known them, perhaps?

Running all through my memories, I tried and failed to find them. I've known cats before. But their colors were always different. It made it hard to tell... and...

No, chances were I didn't. Or rather hadn't. If I had, they would have told her about me. About the society.

She wasn't old enough to know about my life before the society.

So few were anymore.

With a cough, Renn stood from her chair. She stared at me for a moment and then stepped towards the door.

Seemed her questions for now had been exhausted.

Before opening the door however, she paused. Her hand resting on the brass handle for a moment.

“Lomi hates you,” Renn then said. She wasn't looking at me, but instead at the balcony door. Into the small foyer, what little could be seen behind the frosted glass.

“She should.”

“She doesn't want to.”

I nodded. “In time her hate may subside. Usually it doesn't.”

“I...” she went quiet, and I had to turn to see why. The distraught in her face made me look away.

“Don't let it bother you. Imagine if I had showed up only a day after your family was hunted and burnt alive. You'd hate me too,” I said to her.

For a moment she was silent, and then she chuckled. I glanced at her and was surprised to find an odd smile on her face.

“Rather I'd have wrapped you in a hug and kissed you... But my circumstances were different,” she said, then opened the door and headed inside.

She closed the door behind her, and I realized she had left the chair she had dragged out here with me. I'd have to remember to take it in. That stool was not made out of the kind of wood that lasted long in such weather.

Beneath the now empty stool, were footprints. Snow was marked and scattered, as if some animal had rolled around moments ago.

Theoretically, one just had.

“Everyone has a story,” I said after a moment, and sat back to relax a little longer.

Such moments never lasted, after all.