Sarah shoos Wolf. “Go on,” she says.
Wolf’s expression falls as he makes his way over to Squirrel on all fours. He stops by her leg as she looks up at Jack and reaches over to pull on her pants leg. She spins around as he looks back up at her. “Hey, sorry about that,” he says, chuckling. “If you think about it, though, that should actually be flattering. We rarely sniff a butt unless we’re interested in getting to know them.” Wolf smiles a toothy grin. “So, yeah. You’re welcome. Don’t worry about thanking me or anything.”
Jack just shakes his head, but Squirrel seems amused. She smiles, then fixates on his sword rigging. “That’s neat,” she says, pointing to his blade mounting cradle. She walks over to his backside and kneels next to him.
Wolf pulls his butt away and eyeballs her. “It’s really not something that I expect you to reciprocate.” His tone grows more serious, his gaze more direct. “Really, it’s fine. Just stay away from my tail altogether.”
“What?” she asks, looking at him eye-level in her kneel. She then grows awestruck as she looks into each of his eyes. “You’re just like him,” she says with glee.
Wolf takes a couple of steps back and looks over at Jack. “Please, get your girlfriend away from me. She’s really creeping me out.”
“Don’t be rude, Wolf,” Jack replies. “She’s not meaning you harm.”
Squirrel stands again, nodding as she looks down at him. “I had a partner just like him. Was touchy about his tail and everything.”
“Oh, yeah?” Wolf asks. “Did he die of natural causes too, or was it fire related?”
Squirrel shakes her head. “No, he was doing fine last I saw him. He even used a sword like yours.”
Wolf nods. “I like him already. Sounds like he has excellent tastes... in weapons, I mean. Not so sure about his companions.”
“Yeah, real prickly fellow, though. He definitely needed a harness like yours. His sword kept shaving hair off his tail, so he complained about it the whole time.”
“Been there,” Wolf admits. He lowers his haunches, and the locked blade rebuffs him as it contacts the floor.
“Not sure what happened to him after we cleared out that bandit keep, though.”
Wolf freezes as he looks around at his sword locking mechanism. His gaze shifts back around to see a distant stare on Squirrel’s face. “Rain?” Wolf asks.
Squirrel perks up at the name as if addressed directly. “Where did you hear that from?” she asks. “Wait, were you in my game?”
Wolf’s eyes grow wide. “Sarah,” he calls, keeping his eyes on Squirrel. “Please come tell me what’s happening right now.”
“What’s the problem?” Sarah asks, walking up next to Wolf.
Wolf doesn’t look away from Squirrel, only turning his mouth towards Sarah as he speaks. “This crazy person says that she was playing a character that I went on a quest with during my combat training. Will you please restrain her and remove sharp objects from her vicinity?”
“What?” Sarah asks, looking to Squirrel.
“I was just playing one of the games I got from you,” Squirrel replies. “It’s the one where you can play a Viking and use magic. Apparently, Wolf joined me on one of my quests.”
Sarah looks back to Wolf. “What’s she talking about, Wolf?”
“She believes that she’s also a person named Rain---the mercenary that helped me with some bandits.”
Squirrel nods. “Mana Rain,” she corrects. “I always use it when playing games with magic. It’s an anagram for my name.”
“Ha,” Wolf says. “Knew you were busting my balls. There’s no S or Q or---”
“Marianna,” Sarah interjects. “Squirrel’s not her real name.”
“That’s right,” Squirrel replies.
Wolf deflates, his eyes glazing over. “Ok, I’m done. I no longer care about figuring this shit out. Y’all just point and tell me what to stab. I don’t want to understand the rest.”
“Let me think,” Sarah replies, biting down on the tip of her thumb. “We were in a game,” she says to herself, flexing her eyebrows. It makes sense that there would be player characters, but why haven’t I encountered them before? Shouldn’t there be more of them?
Sarah looks back at Squirrel. “Where’s the game now?” she asks.
“It’s at my apartment with the console and other games.”
“Wolf, Jack, could you two walk her home?”
“Something wrong with us using a portal?” Jack asks.
Sarah beckons Jack but holds up her palm when Squirrel tries to follow. “Could you give us a second, Marianna?”
“Hmm? Oh... yeah, that’s fine,” she says with a nod. “But don’t get any ideas, because I’ll be watching.”
Sarah raises her hands. “You’re gonna need to pump those territorial brakes, Spaz. Everyone knows what you’ve roped off as yours. I just need to talk to him. It’s not like we’re running away together.” She flexes her wrist and Squirrel backs away to give them space.
Jack chuckles. “She’s colorful, isn’t she?”
Sarah nods. “She means well. Hey, I need you to do something for me.”
“Sure,” he says, nodding. “Name it.”
Sarah looks away. “You’ve seen how she is. Y’all take her home and just watch her for me. See if she does anything different.”
“Is there a reason you can’t do this yourself?”
Sarah continues to avoid eye contact and swings her arm and thumb around as if it’s a door swinging open. “I’ve just got a thing I need to take care of.”
Jack scrutinizes her during the motion, noticing something as her outstretched arm separates the lapels of her coat. Something abnormal about her chest grabs his attention, so he takes the lapels and pulls the coat open. She doesn’t resist, allowing him to see what’s underneath while she looks away.
The scarf is mostly blue with red marbling and his focus shifts back to her as she bites the inside lip, adamant about not meeting his eyes. “What’s going on with your scarf, Sarah?”
“I’ve just gotta take care of something,” she says, voice cracking as she forces her coat closed and turns away. “Just take her home for me and try not to make any babies while I’m gone.” Sarah draws a blue blade and departs, stepping into the real world, then a different one, and closing the portals behind her.
The portals close, and she walks clumsily along the asphalt of another world’s street. The night is perpetual and the neon streetlights are a blur of pink and green as she drops to her hands and knees. Her fingers curl into fists against the pavement, tears falling to splash in a puddle still standing from a previous rainfall. Rage vibrates through her forearms as she looks at her distorted reflection.
“Don’t do this to me, Marianna.” Her eyebrows flex in her reflection, her rage evaporating as she hears herself say the name. “I can’t do this again,” she says, forcing her eyes closed and allowing her head to sag.
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