I got up from my nest of roots and branches much later than I had planned, and with a lingering dream-like impression of Shae hugging me. I shoved the pesky memory aside and set to packing. Somehow, halfway through doing so, I ended up hugging Fern. Because…

Hugs?

Shae hugging both my leg and all of Fern’s massive ass at the same time…

Hugs!

And so for once, I did not care that this hug-by-proxy was the closest I could ever get to the real thing. I simply hugged Fern and sobbed tearlessly into her flank.

I could return home, as I had thought of doing what now seemed like ages ago. I would be accepted there, yet it would not be the same as it had been with Shae. My home was not a hugging home, with my dad always presenting himself as the stoic hunter, and my mom… well… yes.

Those two hugs by Shae… they had been the first I’d had in a very long time. Until then I hadn’t even known. Now it was an absence, a hole I would never be able to fill by returning home. It wasn’t even that my place lacked love. My dad loved me, would probably die for me a million times over. It was just that, despite how much my dad ranted on about feelings, the warmth and the openness I had felt from Shae wasn’t there. We clashed. Somehow we always clashed. And if he could, he would lock me up inside in a desperate bid to keep me safe…

Only Uncle Hadrian had ever come close to hugging me quite like Shae had, and he only visited maybe once a year. No one had ever fussed over me quite so motherly as Meg. I wanted that, the warmth, the sense of belonging. It wasn’t mine to take, but I wanted it anyway.

Not that I ever see myself capable of reciprocating in kind.

Not that they would ever accept me back.

Right. This again. Somehow I had reasoned myself right back to the same stupid notion I was so desperately trying to get away from. Why did I keep doing this? Why was leaving so hard? There was no future for me here, no path where returning to Birnstead did not end with my death.

But what if there is?

Reya had said that they would accept me. It was such an obvious lie. Onar did not accept me. Limn hadn’t either. Neither would Reya. All it took was one person reporting me, and there were three of those here.

Yet Shae had hugged me, Meg had fussed, the wife had begged and thanked in equal measure, even the woman from the bunkhouse had offered me food as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Why? Some of them knew what I was, and the others must have at least suspected.

So why have they done all that for me?

Why does it chafe so much that I lied to some of them when it was oh so apparent that their fellow villagers, their own friends, wanted me dead?

I had to stop doing this. They had feared me, threatened me, as anyone would. I had lied, as anyone cornered would. There was nothing I could do about any of those things. It was how the world worked for things like me. In the end, it remained as simple as it had always been. I had to leave.

I got on Fern, and I rode.

Yet… one lie that I can still fix…

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Clinging to Fern I walked out from between the trees with an outwardly confidence that I absolutely did not feel. The anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach that had started the second I had resolved to this course of action got even worse now that I had left the forest’s protective darkness.

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Exposure to the summer rays left me weak and miserable as always. On top of that I now also felt exposed. At least my daylight blindness was a mercy this time. Not being able to see hopefully meant I would not be fretting so much about the shocked reactions that my sudden reappearance caused.

I had chosen this spot in between Gery’s place and the bunkhouse to exit the forest. A lot of the villagers appeared to work at the logging sites during the day, which meant fewer eyes focused on me over here. Or so I hoped. Being nearly blind meant guessing where people were more than anything. My nose and ears could have told me so much more if I’d let them, but…

Give yourself some more credit, Vale.

Right. It seemed that every little piece of doubt or self-admonishment now popped in my head with an unhealthy dose of Reya-ness. I needed to get rid of that. Fast. Mind-Reya had a point though. I tended to run away from myself a little too much. I had eaten, it should be fine. I psyched myself up by bouncing on my toes a couple of times.

I could do this slow or fast. If I let my senses seep out at a trickle then I could easily rein them in again. On the other hand… my resolve could falter if I went too slow. Before I could change my mind I let go of the iron grip I usually kept on my senses. The delicate aroma of the various meals lingering around town tickled my nose. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air and suddenly being reminded you stood in the middle of the food market.

For a moment the sinking feeling in my guts intensified. This sudden craving told me this had been a bad idea. I was supposed to be thinking of these people as human beings, not as delicacies on a food market. This wasn’t even the first time I had tried this. I had known this would be the outcome, and for some reason I’d gone through with it anyway.

Did I really think things were going to be different this time?

Cravings are fine, Vale. Just don’t act on them, Vale.

Right. Not at all convincing. But… true? I had enough self-control to not indulge in these desires. In a way, this wasn’t anywhere near as bad as yesterday’s hunger. I could manage. I could. This body was mine. I was in control of the body, was using the body to help me, instead of letting it guide my actions.

Even with that resolve, my new awareness of the people in town, some of which I did not know, brought fresh worries. What if one of these unknown scents was the doctor or the hunter they had sent for? What if someone took offense at my sudden reappearance? Exposing myself like this limited the control I had over the outcome of my actions. It placed me at other people’s mercy. It was such an unnerving feeling that it almost made me turn back right there.

I strangled my unfounded worries, or at least tried to. No matter how much logic I applied, my ingrained self-preservation instincts took offense at even the tiniest chance I would be exposed to risk. Trying to not worry only made it worse. Yet most of my worries were absurd. Especially considering that comparatively, I hadn’t worried anywhere near enough when I came back here originally.

Why do I have to be so hung up on the risk now?

Is it because I have more to lose now?

Only this. I’ll do only this. Just fix this one lie and then I’ll be gone.

No. Not more lies. I was doing it again. Even when merely trying to get my doubts under control I was lying.

Does lying really come this easy for me?

Aaaah… Just fix this one lie, then see where things lead.

None of my unsettlingly circling thoughts were helping me, so I channeled them by stumbling forward a little faster. At least the center of town was empty right now, just the loggers near the river to the left of me, and some people working in fields to the right. If no one looked outside their window as I crossed the street most people wouldn’t even know I was here. Then the faster I could get this over with, the faster…

I can leave?

The dismay sloshing around in my stomach made me wonder if I had unintendedly forced my digestive system into action again. I had not. Last night I had lost focus on keeping my organs going somewhere along the way. All I was simulating now were my heart and my lungs.

Technically those were yet another lie, yet they were a lie I wasn’t willing to give up. Not ever. For that, yesterday with Meg was too much of a stark reminder of… shortness. Bodies grow with age. Mine would only age if it wasn’t… dead.

My hurried steps had brought me up to Uncle Tare’s place. My hand hovered over the door, hesitating. I attempted to reassure myself one final time. It didn’t matter what other people thought or did, only that I knew I was doing the right thing. It didn’t matter if the hunter or the doctor they had sent for was already here. If they were I’d bullshit my way through, as I had always done.

I rapped the door, hoped that the wife would answer, and would still let me in.