Poisonous Fox

“You! Cat!” Sir Kate interrupted us with a boisterous voice. “You were to let her rest! I didn’t give you permission to talk with her!”

Rather than fight or protest the accusation, Kissen surprised me by swallowing her ego and making a strategic decision.“

Forgive,” Kissen spoke quickly, lowering her eyes and bowing her head slightly.

Kate scoffed, paused, then took a deep breath, as though reminding herself of something, though I could only guess as to what. She then glanced around in an obviously suspicious manner. If there had been anyone watching, they certainly would have begun paying attention after seeing that poor attempt at duplicity.

“Last night, I realized something as I nodded off.” Kate was now staring at me. She bit her lower lip and her eyes took a hungry cast. She continued. “I never gave you a name.”

I was taken aback. She claimed to have never received my name, I surely thought. There must have been a custom of sharing a name and receiving a name in turn. At the back of my mind, I hesitated to fully believe that. I ignored the small voice that told me names were only exchanged among equals. And as she had already given me her name last night, I perhaps spoke out of turn, and perhaps, it was done deliberately.

“Jackie,” I offered.

“What?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in what could have been considered suspicion. “No, that’s not… what?” she asked again.

“That’s my name,” I said quickly. I then remembered to act deferentially, and went heavily as to make up for my earlier forthrightness. “Y-you gave me yours last night, but I never got to–”

“No, that’s not it… I didn’t give you that–” she shook her head, confused. “Who gave you that name? Was it Charson? I knew that godsloving cunt would try–” she shook herself and cut herself off before glancing around once more, likely to verify none had overheard her insulting a ranking member of the caravan.

“The furless intends for your slave-name,” Kissen spoke, now in a heavily accented version of the human’s tongue, what I had learned was called Imperial.

Kissen again surprised me, now by speaking out of turn, throwing Kate a line to help pull Kate out from her confusion. I thought there might have been several reasons for Kissen doing so, namely to endear herself to Kate, or to prevent Kate from lashing out in anger.

“Yes, that.” Kate nodded. She did not appear appreciative of Kissen’s interjection, though Kate did ignore how Kissen had spoke out of turn. “Who gave it to you?”

“I-I went through this y-yesterday with Warson,” I said, faking weakness to allow Kate a false sense of dominance. If my read on her was correct, then that would endear myself to her further, and thereby increase my odds of a favorable outcome. “My name was given by a human named m-mother…” I stumbled over the last word by accident, but it helped sell my story, not that I was speaking a lie by the strictest of definitions.

“But nobody here at camp?” Kate asked, relaxing her shoulders. I had not realized they had tensed up. I castigated myself. I needed to remain vigilant and avoid missing such cues.

“Nobody.”

“Then I shall name you,” she said, eagerly watching me, weighing me.

Unfortunately, when she said that, I cringed. It was an automatic reflex, and one that I was unable to stop in time. Which she saw.

“You don’t approve?” she asked, sounding slightly shocked. “You don’t want me for your master?” her voice grew in volume and anger as she spoke, though she never shouted, and her anger could have fallen somewhere in the range of irritation. It was still a dangerous territory for me to be in, especially with how I was at her mercy.

“I-it’s not that!” I protested. “B-but…”

“Then but what,” she said, almost sneering, definitely scowling.

“I like my name,” I said softly.

She scoffed. “And that matters?” she said, almost by reflex. Once the words were out of her mouth, she deflated a marginal amount, closed her eyes, and centered her breathing.

“If I may offer a suggestion?” I asked, cringing slightly at the thought of further endangering myself, but refusing to abandon one of the few things I remembered of my identity.

She exhaled through her nose before answering, “What?”

“T-that’s my preferred name, but not the full one that m-mother gave.”

“Your previous owner accepted your nickname?” she asked. Thankfully, she was already aware of the concept.

I shook my head.

“Interesting,” she nodded slightly, as though accepting an idea she just had. “What was your given name then? In full.”

“Jackylyn,” I answered. I had always hated the name in its fullness, largely because of who gave it to me.

“Very well,” Kate said with grandiosity. “Then I shall name you Jackie. You’re welcome.”

I almost rolled my eyes. My initial assumption concerning Kate was that she was egotistical and impatient to a ridiculous degree, and her ‘favor’ towards me was doing little to change my mind. But still, I would not bite a hand that might feed me. At least not yet. And not for something so trivial.

So I thanked her.

“Now tell me of this last owner,” Kate said, changing subjects. “Particularly, where to find her.”

She rolled her neck and cracked her knuckles, leaving little in the way of doubt towards what she meant to do once she found this ‘owner.’

I shook my head. I could not truly answer this without giving away more than I could. I just hoped she would keep a level head in regards to the denial.

“Why not?” she asked. “Under a geas?” Her face had pinched, and her pale blue eyes reminded me of cascading glaciers crashing down on hapless victims. “Of what nature.”

“I–I cannot say,” I said.

She hummed, almost growled. “Does she still stake a claim over you?” she asked.

I doubted it, for several reasons. But before I answered, Kate revised her question.

“Will she contest my claim?” Kate asked more forcefully.

“Claim?” I asked, repeating the question, and feeling more of that dread creeping up from the pit of my stomach.

“Of you.”

I almost gagged. I did, a little. Bile hit the back of my throat, and I turned the involuntary reflex into a helpless shrug while I swallowed it all back down.

“Helpful,” Kate said sarcastically. “Well, no matter. I’ll deal with any and all. Now tell me of you. What’s your breed. What sacred arts do you have, and what do they enhance?”

What followed was a lengthy session that repeated largely what I told Warson. Kate seemed dissatisfied at the lack of information in my answers, but I defaulted to pretending that I was under a geas when silence was required. Thus far, I had yet to inform anyone I had the power of Illusions, not that they worked with the mothersworn slave collar on.

When she finished her litany of questions, I asked one of my own.

“What will happen to me?” I asked.

Depending on the answer, I might try gaining different accommodations, or at the very least, my clothes back. Being nude and on display, even with my fur, was not a comfortable experience, not comfortable at all.

“You’ll come with me, of course.” The way she said it carried no doubt whatsoever. She was supremely confident. Outrageously so. “Of course, you’ll do whatever it is kunbeor normally do. In addition to your duties to me. And spar. It would not do for you to embarrass me.” As she spoke, I could not help but notice she had been salivating slightly. It was a labor to avoid squirming beneath her attention.

I wanted to ask so many questions. But the opportunity was lost as we were interrupted by a laborer.

“Ah, … is good merc is here,” the man said with an accent I struggled to parse. “Walk the kun...”

Kate wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I’m not a merc.”

“... is what I said,” the man replied. “But you watch, …?”

“Fine, yes. Do her first,” she pointed at me.

The man looked at me dubiously. “... is safe?”

“Course it’s safe!” Kate said with exasperation. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, yes. Good.” the man muttered while fishing for a key dangling from his pocket by a chain. I watched his hands carefully while he fumbled for it. The key appeared normal, without any of the technology this world relied on, although I could never be certain. The man’s hands were thick and calloused while stained with grime and worse. His fingernails were grotesque. And once I focused on him, I could smell the fecal matter and stale beer. But finally, he opened the gate.

The three Kaivan shifted in preparation. I was still unsure what was happening. Kate moved around to the back of the prison wagon, near the man and the gate. I noticed that she scrunched her nose while examining the man as well, and she kept a few steps from him.

“You–” he pointed at me, then pointed at the ground outside the cage. “Down.”

Was he, was he commanding me like a dog?! I thought in outrage.

Kissen patted my shoulder and murmured, “This is your only chance for relief this morning. It is better to listen and comply, despite the shame.”

It was also a chance to escape. I could try running for it. But, with the collar on, I felt weak. My body was slow to respond. And a quick experiment and a mouthed, “Illusion,” proved that all my powers were offline. So while I could run for it, I doubted I would get far. But what a failed escape attempt would accomplish: increased restrictions and scrutiny. So I chose to comply.

Unlike the three siblings, I had never been leashed to the back of the wagon. Which meant I was free to get up, well, sit up more accurately. The cage on the prison wagon was not tall enough to stand. I crawled to the exit. As I sat on the edge and slipped off, back onto the ground, on wobbly legs, the gross man breathed on me as he snapped the end of a cord to my collar. The cord was several yards long, and looked to be braided with metal. It occurred to me belatedly, that I had been leashed. Where had the man even pulled the leash out of, and when? I scanned my surroundings quickly and found some cabinets on the underside of the wagon. Likely, it had been stored there. I wondered what else was stored there as well.

Outside the prison wagon, standing there in front of the disgusting male and the leering Kate, nude, with the wind bristling through my fur, I could not help but feel exposed and helpless and I despised it.

But my only recourse was to play the game and win my freedom. Along with whatever supplies I could requisition on my way out. Likely with the Kaiva. I wondered if they would lead me back to their people, and if that civilization would act more… civilized. A question for later.

I felt a tug at my neck.

“Come,” the man said, yanking on the leash again.

“Hey, easy,” Kate snapped. She grabbed the leash from the man and pushed him aside. “I’ll walk her. You take care of the others. Or whatever.”

The man brushed himself off and glowered.

Kate stared at him and raised an eyebrow, almost as a dare.

He shook his head and turned back to the prison wagon, searching through a cabinet beneath it. He muttered about ‘crazy mercs,’ which I was sure that Kate also heard. However, she let it pass, instead leading me away from the wagon.

It was humiliating, following after her, with a slack leash kept between us.

I wanted to claw her throat. I wanted to claw my own throat. I repressed everything. I would get through this. I would survive. I would escape. I would kill–no. I repressed it all. I stood as proud as I could, I refused to cower, and I followed along after Kate while focusing on what I could.

As we walked, I watched the perimeter. I watched the guards, these so-called knights. I memorized faces and wagons. I found weak points. I saw valuables. I might have figured out where my tools were stored, though that was only a guess. What I failed to find was the means to escape my collar, though I hoped one would turn up.

We were headed beyond the circled wagons, and beyond where the knights watched. We were heading far enough away that I was having second thoughts about my refusal to escape. But there would be no way that Kate would leave herself vulnerable if there was not some way to protect herself. And yet, there she was, with her back turned to me. Was this a sign of her arrogance? Could I risk it? It was tempting. But I needed to be sure, first. And it was not as though I could just ask her. I would need to be subtle.

“W-where are we headed?” I asked. “A-and why?”

“Walking,” she said with no nonsense, though I thought I heard a tint of humor. “They do it for all the kunny to keep them fit for wherever they go.”

“And me?” I asked, momentarily forgetting to act meek.

“Like godswant will I let you languish in that cage with the rest of them. You should be with me, not–” she growled and shook her head. “-whatever. I’ll figure it out. You need to piss or something?”

“Wha– ?” I asked, mouth agape.

“You know, make water, or whatever.” She was speaking so casually, even though it was so incredibly… demeaning. “You got the parts for it.”

“Tha–” I started sputtering before getting myself under control. “Is there cover?” I asked. “Latrines?” I said, hopefully.

“Nah, just go over there–” she pointed at a spot a few yards away, still in range of the leash.

“At least turn your back?” I asked hesitantly.

She snorted, amused. “Sure. Not like it matters with my battle sense…” she said under her breath. If not for my enhanced hearing, I surely would have missed it.

Despite the demeaning situation, I encountered another problem.

Since I had arrived on this world, in this body, I had yet to actually need the restroom. I had not made water, nor… less savory waste. My body was unique in that regard. And I felt, should that uniqueness become apparent to these humans, that my situation would deteriorate in some way. And so, I took this opportunity to fake it.

I squatted down and made the motions, while trying to make a ‘psh’ sound, to some success. It was not as though I had a surplus of options. It was embarrassing, so, so embarrassing.

After I stood back up, Kate turned around smirking. “That was something,” she said.

Did she know? I wondered. My cheeks heated up and I felt absolutely ridiculous. “I haven’t eaten or drunk anything lately,” I offered as a lame excuse. Though come to think of it, I was thirsty and ravenous, more so than before this mothersworn collar had gone on.

“Let’s fix that then,” she said, nodding. “Can’t have my pet starving.”

To my credit, that time I hardly cringed at all.

Kate led us back to the prison wagon soon after. As we passed the perimeter, we were intercepted by Warson and Lieutenant Muleater. Warson carried himself rigidly with a worried expression on his face. The Lieutenant appeared upset, judging by the slightly red hue to her otherwise brown complexion.

“You were ordered to keep away from it!” Muleater said scathingly. I wilted away from both her and Warson, hiding as much as I could behind Kate.

Kate meanwhile, stood undeterred and nonchalantly, though from her shoulders I could tell the nonchalance was more feigned than anything. Still, her acting was good. “I don’t remember anyone ordering me to do that.”

“Warson told you to–”

“-he told me to go to bed, and that you would want to discuss it with me today. Nobody said nothing about avoiding her. And this kunbeor is a her. And her name is Jackie.”

Muleater’s mouth twisted and her eyes narrowed. She glanced back to Warson, who shook his head with a shrug. “That was the name the kunbeor gave me last night. It appears that no damage was done so far; the seal remains intact.”

“Of course there’s not any damage!” Kate protested. “What did you guys even think would happen?”

“We don’t know what would happen,” Muleater said, calming down slightly, though still stressed. “There is too many questions unanswered, and I am suspicious of this–kunbeor–this Jackie–that just so happened to fall into our laps! People don’t just leave bags of C lying around Kate. You’re smarter than this. I know you are.”

“Yeah, I am smarter than this,” Kate said, seeming to miss part of Muleater’s point. “I see a kunbeor that is valuable and unclaimed, one that is sealed and unable to hurt me. The only thing we need to worry about is whoever the cunts were that shot her. Which is what you should be asking her about.”

Muleater growled and spat on the ground. “Fine. You’re right. Get the kunbeor back in the cage and I’ll come by after my godslovin’ coffee.”

The man was just finishing shoving the sick Kaiva back into the cage, while his siblings strained to reach him and help ease him back into place.

“--so lazy!” the man grunted, finally pushing the Kaivan in. He clapped his hands and went around, grabbing the leash and tying it to a hook well out of reach of the cage. “... about done, just…” he continued on with his thick accent, one I still struggled to parse. I missed the ability to quickly learn and speak languages, even if it came with a headache. Though, I doubted this man in particular had anything of value to say.

“... , there!” he said as he saw Kate and then me. “... up in there… !”

Kate scoffed, but helped me up into the cage. With the collar weakening me, and with my hunger, I was not too proud to accept her helping hand while climbing in. Once I was in, the man grabbed my leash and hooked it along with the rest, before I could protest. It looked like Kate thought about it, but in the end she declined.

Instead, she said, “Get her fed and watered. I need to take care of myself, but I’ll be back. You better not skimp either.”

“Yes, yes.” The man bobbed. Once Kate turned around, he spat on the ground and swore under his breath. I noticed that Kate’s hand tightened on the hilt of her sword and her stride had a slight susurration, but in the end she chose to ignore it and keep walking away. “I feed your … pet …” he grumbled while rummaging under the cart.

He came back with a trough that was thin enough to slide between the slats of the cage. He dumped water and chunks of dried something into the same trough, letting it mix with the grime and the dirt, which he then placed before us.

The water, the grime, the mystery chunks, all mixing together. I eyed it and winced.

He then stomped off, still complaining.

Kissen helped her sick brother eat, while Larissen looked at me and chuffed in amusement. “Disgusting, these ones agree. But it is all that is given, and to starve is to die. Eat and survive, pup.”

As though to emphasize his point, Larissen speared a mystery chunk, now sopping wet, with a claw and then bit into it. It smelled gamey and fragrant, but in a dusty and sour sort of way. And despite the nastiness of the meal, Larissen was right, and my stomach agreed.

I was starving.

The food–the soup–was all I had.

I was not too proud to die from starvation, not when the food was right here in front of me. So I dug in and tried to ignore the taste, and the maggot I found squirming in the mystery meat.

***

Some time later, after a meal that both left me ill and fed, Muleater returned, followed by Kate.

Muleater smiled as she rapped the hilt of her rapier against the cage, letting out a reverberation that ensured we were all awake, despite the fact none of us had been resting, except the sick one. All of our ears twitched and flattened against the assault; Kissen and Larissen scowled at the noise, but what could they realistically do to act out against the humans?

“I’ve got questions,” she said. “And you’ve got answers.”

Kate came around from behind and stood beside Muleater, crossing her arms. Muleater glanced at her niece before scoffing. “You’ll be sticking around then?” Muleater asked sardonically.

“I’m here to make sure you don’t hurt what’s mine,” Kate said, standing firm.

“Awfully presumptive, but alright. Let’s get started,” Muleater said with a grin. It sounded as though she was going to add more but then thought better of it. Instead, she went with, “Introductions then. My name is Lieutenant Janet Muleater. This is my niece, Sir Katherine Guardson.”

This felt dangerous. I almost would have rather gone back to the previous treatment. But I had to push forward. Though I made sure to sound particularly pathetic.

“M-my name i-is Jackie,” I said. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kate nod and smile at me, as though I were a dog that had just performed a trick. Perhaps that was exactly as she thought.

“I understand my niece named you?” she asked.

Dangerous. While I had already given my name as Jackie prior to being ‘named’ Jackie by Kate, depending on how I answered could embarrass Kate, which would bode poorly for me. But, I could not be caught out in a lie, not so soon. Better for them to think deceit was the farthest thing from me.

“Yes Lieutenant,” I answered.

“Your full name was Jacklyn, but you go by Jackie?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding my head slowly. My suspicion was mounting that Muleater was deploying a social engineering technique, or perhaps several of them.

“And the others? You, cat–” she pointed at Kissen “-you seem chummy with Jackie here. What is your name?”

More names! What was it with these people and names?

If Kissen was wondering the same, she never voiced her doubts. Instead, she answered: “This one is named Kissen, Huntress and Stalker of the Ziggurat Wardens.”

“Do you know where your owners are sending you, Kissen?” Muleater asked. I wondered if this interrogation technique might have worked better had we all been separated first. Though I supposed that would have been difficult under the conditions. And perhaps the humans thought it unnecessary.

“Perhaps,” Kissen said. “This one believes for fighting.”

“From the invoice, it looks like you’ll be sent to farm for cores–”

“-Lucky,” Kate muttered under her voice. Muleater narrowed her eyes but never called Kate on it.

“-does that sound right, Kissen?”

“Perhaps, yes.”

“Good. You’ve met Jackie before today?”

“Y-no?” Kissen said, sounding confused.

“You have?”

“N-no, have not. Why say this?”

“Of course I only had to check. You other two?”

The two brothers shook their heads in denial, though the sick one punctuated his with a raspy cough.

“Unfortunate,” Muleater said, watching the sick one, before turning her attention back to Kissen. “Are you familiar with other beastborn that appear as Jackie does?”

“No, this one is not,” Kissen confessed, which was more or less what she had told me earlier. “Nor my brothers are familiar. These ones suspected…”

“Humans?” Muleater asked with a wry tone, an amused smirk.

“Yes, please forgive.” Kissen said, though she smelled rebellious while sounding the opposite. It was an interesting juxtaposition, and I suspected my scent came across similarly.

“Perhaps some alchemist somewhere. Certainly Alchemist Charson seemed interested enough. But there are those marks of Jackie’s–any idea what they do?” she asked Kissen.

Kissen shook her head, ears flat and hair raised. Apparently she disliked the manipulation as well. It did seem a bit heavy handed, if even the Kaiva could pick up on it.

“You’re sure?” Muleater pressed. She watched Kissen intently, almost radiating an invisible force. It grew difficult to think an my mind felt fuzzy. “You never met Jackylyn previously? You have no knowledge as to her abilities or owner?”

Kissen pushed back against the force, swallowing and issuing a yowl. “First a lack of trust, then a flood of questions. This one is uncertain to your motives. Ask and trust, or do not ask at all.”

The pressure stopped just as quickly as it came, and left Muleater chuckling as she shook her head. “Well then, thank you for your cooperation.” She focused back on me. “

“You have Sacred Art. From who? Who Marked you?” Muleater asked plainly.

I stammered, struggled to answer. I knew this question would be coming, but I had no good option. Everything I could say would result poorly. I could try lying, but I bet that Muleater had a way to weed through those. The only thing I knew for certain was that I could not tell the entire truth.

When I took too long thinking, Muleater gave an exasperated growl, “Those glyphs on your arms! Who gave them to you?”

I shrugged helplessly. I wanted to say ‘geas,’ but if she could detect lies then that would go very poorly. The only way I could play this was for Muleater to assume that. Which meant I had to continue playing helpless.

The pressure came back, and began amping upwards. The rest of the world began to obscure itself behind a nonexistent haze, and all I could focus on was Muleater’s lips and her voice and her eyes that seemed to be weighing into me.

“Who.” Muleater commanded.

“...I-I d-d-” I stammered, just barely keeping myself from answering, but it was like climbing a greased rope. It just wanted to slip its way out, taking all of my concentration to keep it in.

The pressure grew, breathing was now difficult. My chest pressed in. My heart pounded in my ears. “D-don-n-” It was coming out! No! A part of me screamed, but it fell on a mute mind. Would it not just be better to give in? The truth certainly could never harm me…

“Janet!” Kate scolded, echoing from nowhere. “Stop!”

And just like that, the pressure stopped.

I gasped for breath. I could see again. I felt Kissen patting my back, tracing patterns in my fur. She was humming so slightly that I thought I was imagining the sound.

Meanwhile, Kate was glaring at Muleater, face pink, hands on the hip.

Muleater appeared indifferent to Kate’s attitude and kept going. “Hm. Looks like Warson might have been right,” Muleater said. “Very well. Where did you receive your wounds?”

“F-from–” I started answering, but found it difficult to even speak. I had to wet my mouth before trying again. “Bandits,” I answered much more clearly, though my voice still had an unflattering croak to it.

“That’s something at least,” Muleater said. “Can you tell me which ones?” she added. “Do you know which group they were, who their boss was?”

“The Red Queen,” I said, fully willing to give the bandit leader up to the knights. While I might have considered myself a thief, and while I would ordinarily never reveal another criminal’s secrets, I made an exception for slavers. And besides, the Red Queen’s servants had shot me.

When Muleater heard the name, she froze for a moment, while Kate whispered what sounded a lot like an excited, “Score!”

“Gods!” Muleater snapped out of it, swearing loudly. “That scum?!” She breathed a few times, getting herself back under control.

Meanwhile, Kate laughed. “A bit of an overreaction, yeah? Just some trumped up bandits. We’ll knock ‘em down no problem.”

“Niece,” Muleater said deliberately and slowly. “I mean this with all possible love. But you don’t know anything about this group. Bandits are bad news. Especially those ones…”

Kate scowled at Muleater, which Muleater returned full power. In the end, Kate gave in. “Fine… but we do run into them, then I’ll prove you wrong.”

“I’m sure,” Muleater said. She turned back to me, emanating a slight pressure. “How far away did you encounter them?”

I shook my head helplessly, “I don’t know… I was pretty out of it. I had a map somewhere though,, in my bag. If you bring it to me, I could point it out.”

“Did you remember seeing a bag?” Muleater asked Kate.

Kate shook her head. “No, just those odd clothes, high quality lock picks, and that strange knife.”

“Looks like you misplaced it then,” Muleater told me. “Why can’t you say how far away they are?”

“I had a fever… it had been days. They shot me and I ran and got sick… I was hallucinating badly by the time I arrived here.”

Muleater growled and shook her head. But by this time, camp had finished breaking and a corpulent fellow was shouting out orders to hitch the meohr and load up.

“We’ll talk more later,” Muleater said. She started to turn, before thinking of one more thing to say. “And thank you.”

Kate stuck around a minute longer until Muleater called her away. Kate gave me one more hungry look before complying.

“The furless ones, those Qari, make me sick,” Larissen spat. “And the way that blue one watches you, cub… like prey. Be worried.”

I agreed, but I had too many thoughts and feelings running through my head to even know how to respond. It was all just so much, so fast.

Kissen clicked her tongue.“Perhaps. But the young one still recovers and must rest. Just as our brother tries.”

“Not well,” the sick one rasped out. “Is there… more water?”

Kissen sighed, “No. Perhaps more later. Hold strong until then and rest.”

He sighed mournfully and continued breathing pitifully.

I could barely pay him any attention, not to him, not to anyone. I had been enslaved. I needed medical attention, I sought out help, and humans had enslaved me. Kate was acting as though I was some sort of pet. It… it was just… so…

Tears began prickling the corners of my eyes as everything was catching up.

It was so unfair! I cursed it all. No, I was the one that was cursed. Rotten awful horrible luck! I dropped further into despair, and would have kept falling, except for a familiar voice drawing me out.

“It will get easier,” Kissen said softly. She was right beside me, if a little behind, and her greater height put her face near my ears. Her breath tickled. “Does Kitten wish to be petted?”

“... no,” I said, sniffling ever so slightly.

“This one thinks she does,” Kissen said with fondness, equally soft.

Kissen gently picked me up and pulled me onto her lap. She began stroking my ears at the base. I melted at the touch, leaning back into her. The scalp massage continued, and I found myself purring.

I did not overly mind. It was a pleasant diversion.

Perhaps it would become easier, I thought.

I found myself drifting off as the wagon jolted into movement. While the wheels bounced along the road, I sank further into Kissen’s lap, into her administrations.

Kissen began humming a pleasant melody once more, and I found myself drifting off to sleep.