Harlowe watched Clair sleeping. The other woman had fallen asleep after hours of talking between the two of them. Harlowe felt some measure of real peace for the first time in years, however, sleep was something she was still not allowed by her condition. She looked down at her right hand. It was the one she usually had attached to her. The half-ghoul smiled recalling how she and Clair had spent a good portion of their talk on how the prosthetic worked while repairing it. It was a good experience, warm. 

She kept her voice low, “always alone at night.” Her eyes traveled from Clair’s sleeping form to her pack. “Could get the hurdy gurdy out, but I’d have to leave the room. I don’t want to wake her.” She closed her eyes. "Maybe I'll just bring my tent in." She stood up and went to the door to the hall and rested her claw against it. "Goodnight, Clair."

Harlowe walked down the hall and stairs to the first floor of the tavern. There were some patrons still present. Two men watched the door to the outside while others were still eating or drinking. Some of the patrons turned to look at her. She never liked being around people for long and that was before the curse. 

The half-ghoul met their eyes as she spoke, "yes? Good evening." Many of them didn't maintain eye contact. She turned to the door guards. "I intend on coming back inside once I'm done getting my tent. I'll knock and announce my presence before opening the door."

The less jumpy of the two men nodded. "Aye, understood."

"Thanks, I'd really rather avoid a spear in my gut," said Harlowe as she left the Faerie's Folly. 

Outside the clouds had dispersed over the evening and the whole of Imerre was bathed in moonlight. It was bright enough that all the color wasn't washed out of her vision, she looked up at the night sky. The whole of it appeared painted in vibrant colors splashed over a dark canvas and dotted with shimmering stars.

She began to murmured the names of the constellations to herself, “Esara’s Anvil, Suu’ara’s Eye, the Scarlet Host…” it had been ages since she'd looked at the stars. "I should get what I came out here to do done."

Harlowe headed off toward her camp, it wasn't far and the crunch of snow was oddly pleasing to her ears. At her camp was the remains of the slain ghoul from earlier in the night. It had several large chunks missing from its body. She placed a hand near the clasp of her mask and spoke the word. It clicked and fell into her waiting claw. 

"A couple more bites to keep the hunger sated." She opened her mouth wide, jaw sliding back to allow a larger bite. After swallowing more hunks of flesh she cleaned off her mouth and clamped the mask back over her face. "Clair seemed to want my face clean." Beneath the mask, she smiled. 

There was a question of what to do with the corpse. It would be simplest to let it sit in the snow and deal with any further freezing as it came up, but that also ran the risk of it being discovered by the villagers. She was certain that anyone inside the Folly knew what she had done with the body. It was something she still felt shame over, the desires the curse left her with were not suited to polite society. 

Harlowe grabbed the spear that remained frozen not just to the corpse but also a portion of the dirt the head had driven into. "It's like a handle." She smirked and raised herself to her full height. "Up you go." With a single motion she brought the corpse up high and draped it over some tree branches. "Better than just leaving it on the ground."

She turned her attention to her tent. Then folded it up and grabbed her shovel from where she'd left it before heading back to the Folly. 

She knocked three times on the door. "Hey, it's me, please don't get spooked and try to stab me."

The man who'd spoken to her earlier replied, "yeah, come on in."

Harlowe opened the door and went inside. Some of the patrons still gave her the side eye as she stalked up to her room on the second floor. When she reached the door to where Clair was sleeping she pressed it open and entered as quietly as she could manage. She put her shovel and tent against the nightstand. 

She leaned over Clair and gently brushed a hand through her hair. "I'm glad you're getting rest." Her eyes drifted to the nightstand and the pair of shot glasses next to the half empty bottle of sloe gin. "You really couldn't hold your liquor." She stifled a laugh. "Though according to you that was an issue before you changed as well."

She pulled the covers up a little further around Clair. The night was still going to be long. She thought of just staying and watching Clair, but it seemed a little wrong to just stare at her all night, even if that's what she wanted to do. Harlowe turned to her pack and removed the case that held her instrument.

"Rest well," Harlowe whispered as she left the room once more. "Might as well try and ingratiate myself with the locals. We might be here a while." She blinked. "Am I already considering her and I an actual couple?" She shook her head then nodded. "I mean if she wants me I'd be…"

Harlowe headed back down the stairs and found a place to sit. She set the case down next to her. No one had been playing any music down here, aside from the rather drunken singing that managed to filter through the timbers and into the room she and Clair were in. She removed her hurdy gurdy from its case and twisted a few of the tuning pegs. Her eyes went to the other patrons, still quite a few were present. She placed the instrument on her lap.

She sighed. "Can't believe I'm getting stage fright. They're not even looking at me." 

Harlowe began to slowly turn the crank of the instrument. Dull droning tones filled the air and were then joined by notes played by her claws clicking in the metal capped keys along the instrument's keybox. The clicking sound of bone on steel added what could be likened to another instrument on its own. She turned the crank back and forth as her claws flew over the keys taking the mournful drone and turning it into a dance. 

As she played some of the townsfolk overcame their trepidation and the ghastly appearance of the musician and began to stamp their feet to the beat. She sat, her back to a corner playing, no sharing, her music with them. Time passed quickly for her, almost as quickly as her time with Clair.

–––––––

Clair woke up, her head was pounding, the drinking last night had been too much. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room then nearly jumped out of her skin. Harlowe was leaning against the wall opposite the bed, completely inert with her eyes closed. She wasn't breathing. Does she even breathe? Clair had never noticed if she did, she assumed Harlowe did. 

"Are you alive?" She waved a hand in front of Harlowe's face.

The half-ghoul twitched and her eyes shot open. "Yes, I am what counts as alive for me." She cracked her neck making a series of distressingly loud pops. "Good, I'm assuming, morning?" There was light filtering in from outside through the window behind Clair. "Okay, yes, morning. Hello."

Clair raised a brow. "So what was the statue routine about? I was a little worried."

She waved her claw. "I thought I explained, I don't sleep."

"Yes, but what exactly was that?"asked Clair, leaning in.

"I just… turn off for a few hours. The body hibernates or something." Harlowe shrugged. "Not really worth thinking about."

Clair nodded then paused. "Did you watch me sleep all night? That's kind of cute." She giggled. I did not know I could make that sound.

"Actually I went down to the first floor before coming back up to 'sleep'." She made air quotes as she said the last word. 

"Oh, what did you get up to down there?" Clair's smile turned down slightly. "There wasn't trouble, was there?"

Harlowe chuckled. "No, not as such." 

"Uh huh?" 

"I played music until people left." Harlowe felt warmth in her cheeks. "I think they liked it? Maybe they won't see me as such a monster."

"Harlowe. You're not a monster." Clair huffed.

Harlowe stretched out her left arm from inside her cloak. "That is demonstrably false." She splayed her claws out wide. "Look at me."

Clair hugged her. "Sure, your body might be monstrous, but that doesn't mean you are."

"Clair, I tried to ea-" she groaned and hugged the other woman back. "Fine, I'm not a monster. Just that most people will see me as one." She lowered her head so that it was next to Clair's. "I can tell from the way your blood is flowing that you’ve got a hangover.”

“M-my blood?” stammered Clair.

Harlowe held the back of Clair’s head in her claw. “A pretty bad one too, you should rest for a bit.” she pushed past her and grabbed the bottle of gin. “I’m taking this with me.”

Clair followed after Harlowe and stopped next to the bed. “Am I really allowed time to rest? The ghouls…” 

“They can wait. I’m going to go see your blacksmith friend, the one that had the axe last night.” She looked directly into Clair’s eyes. “I’ll make sure nothing happens while you’re resting.”

She tried to protest, but as she moved her head throbbed in agony. “Fine, I’ll try and sleep it off.” Clair sat at the edge of the bed.

Harlowe went to the door and paused. “I’ll be back with some water, that should help.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Clair tried to smile, but the pounding in her head made it a grimace.

Harlowe stepped out into the hall and went downstairs. There were only a few people downstairs; a sleeping doorguard, a woman manning the bar and a table of villagers talking. She walked past the group at the table and ignored their gasps, they must have been elsewhere while she was getting to know some of the townsfolk. 

The woman behind the bar placed her elbow on it and spoke, “Well, you’re not one fo the regulars. What can I get you?”

“Not afraid of me?” Harlowe raised a brow. 

She shrugged at her. “Not at all, now about your order?” 

Harlowe placed her right hand on the bar. “I need some water for a friend upstairs. She had too much drink.”

The woman at the bar turned and grabbed a large flagon. “That the lady with the silver hair you’re talking about?” she asked as she began to fill the cup with water from a barrel. 

“Yes, it is. Why ask?” Her claw joined her right hand on the bar.

The bartender placed the full cup on the bar. “From what I’ve heard she’s the cleric from when I was a kid. She saved my father.” She pushed the drink over. “Tell her not to worry about any payment for the room she’s in, I’ll talk to the tavernkeep.”

Harlowe grabbed the flagon of water. “She’s really done a lot for this town.” She turned to leave and paused. “Thank you, you and the rest of this place for being good to her.” 

“She’s a hero, miss,” said the bartender as Harlowe left.

Harlowe walked back up to the room and set the large cup of water on the nightstand, trying not to wake the sleeping woman.

Clair sat up and looked at her, a sleepy smile on her face. “Thanks.”

Harlowe smirked under the mask. “Thought I’d try to let you sleep, but since you’re awake; the bartender says your room is free.” 

“Oh, that’s good,” said Clair, groggily. 

“Says you’re a hero too, saved her dad when you first came here.” Harlowe cracked her back. “I wonder if I’ll keep hearing that if I travel with you after this whole ghoul problem is solved.”

Clair’s face darkened. “I didn’t save enough. People died. I’m no hero.” 

Harlowe tipped Clair’s chin up with a claw. “You can’t be perfect. You’re doing more than most would.” 

“I…” Clair slumped. “I know, but I had and still have power. It’s my duty.”

“One day your ‘duty’ is going to get you killed.” Her red eyes stared into Clair’s icy blues. “And when that happens, who is going to save me?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Bah, forget I said that.” Harlowe ran the back of a claw down Clair’s face. “I’ll see you later today, get some rest.” She turned and left the room.

Clair wanted to scream. Her need to protect, her duty, her purpose, her reason for being; to help others tearing at her. With her death likely leading to Harlowe falling to her curse, she was stuck. If she didn’t act to save others, she’d be failing them. If she died, she’d be failing Harlowe. Her head hurt. She took a sip of water and stared at the floorboards. 

“I’ll just have to try harder.” Her head pulsed with white-hot agony. “After I’m through this hangover..”