With Pip perched on my shoulder and Freya riding on my back, we stepped out of the shade of the trees and into the sunlit meadows. The transition from darkness to sunlight was as abrupt as the smell, from wet pine needles to the strong scent of freshly broken earth. We followed the same small, sometimes barely visible path that would lead us to the village ahead. People were working in the fields, ploughing and sowing. There were three ragged snow-capped mountains in the distance.

The path followed the meandering stream we had followed since the hermitage. We did not want to trample through the freshly sown fields, so the distance to the village decreased slowly. What is more, the creek was not much more than a small jump across, but here in the valley, it flowed slowly. The wide, muddy banks, or rather avoiding them, demanded my full attention and slowed our progress further.

The houses in the village were different from the ones we had visited five days before. Here the houses had steep roofs and were narrow but long. A necessity for the harsh winters in this region, which brought a lot of snow: Half the house was used for animals and storage, as they were cut off for weeks, if not months, during the winter, as Freya explained. I wondered if she had grown up here. She laughed, not really, but her father was from a similar village. He had told her mother stories of the harsh winters. Harsh winters were hard to imagine on this bright and warm, almost summer day.

As we approached the village, the path became more defined. Happily, I accelerated and arrived in the village in the style of a wild squirrel-cat, just like last time.

Of course, we had been spotted long ago during our slow approach. A rider, and especially one coming from the direction of the hermitage, was rare and a good reason to pause the work and gather. In the last half mile or so we overtook several of them. From the village, the women and children came out and surrounded us before we passed the first house. This would be a good challenge for my communication skills but, panting, Freya did the talking.

They were disappointed to hear that we were not going to stay for the night. We learned that Krenburg was only a little more than a day's journey away, but I wanted to spend my last night in the forest before being locked up in a house. And Freya wanted me all to herself, even if she would miss the drinking. So no overnight stay.

With that made clear, hectic activities began for a feast, even though noon had already passed. Freya was led to the elders. They gathered to hear the latest stories and gossip. And when they found out that she was an apprentice healer, people on crutches and with oozing bandages started showing up. Nothing. I could contribute to and with my better sense of smell, I rather kept my distance from the oozing wounds and ichor. Even though I was the older one, I left the adults and turned to the children.

"Come petting?" was a tried and tested icebreaker. And then it was back to Kiara's Pony Express adventure rides. This time even with a tame squirrel as a bonus. Much more fun for both of us than boring adult conversations. Back in my fading old life, I had never been much of a kid person. I never had many opportunities, most of my friends didn't have kids, and I was a single woman working in an office. Why should any child approach me?

Here I was the centre of their attention and I could give them back with my jumps and fast rides. Soon more and more came, also bored by the adults talking and healing and seeing what they were missing. For a moment, I wondered when I had become the Pied Piper of Hamlin.

Soon my fur was plastered to my sweaty flanks. But my stamina had improved greatly over the last few days. And I now knew how fast was ok for how long. I could have done this all afternoon. But then they clacked wood together, and the children directed me to the village square, where everyone else had gathered, including Freya. She smiled when she saw me with the children.

I was more than aware of my poor presentation, so I just panted: "Thank you, huff, sorry for, huff, slow."

Luckily, I had missed all the previous speeches and was just handed a plate with a big roast chicken. "Enjoy!" I shouted, and that was the signal for the rest of us to dig in. I balanced the plate and followed Freya to the table with the village elders, where I was given a large bowl of vegetables while Freya took the chicken off my plate.

I was quite hungry and still a bit out of breath. The elders were naturally curious, but I answered most of their questions with "later". We were guests, so we could eat at our own pace. Which in my case was pretty fast after the little I had eaten earlier in the day and the playing with the children.

With the biggest hunger stilled, a conversation was attempted again. I tried hard and understood much more than before. But my active vocabulary was not up to the task and Freya had to translate my broken sentences into something these people could understand. As I was the first foreigner to come here, they were not used to having their language mangled or even spoken with a heavy accent. Still, there was a lot of laughter and even compliments for entertaining the children. I cringed whenever there was a question about my body. I was very aware of the strong smell of cinnamon from the sweat drying on my flanks. And my shirt was clinging to my torso. But no one commented politely.

* * *

After that, I did more rounds with the children until the shadows grew longer and it was almost time for dinner. Of course, they asked us again to stay the night. But apart from the children, being among humans always reminded me of how far from human I really was; which I did not feel even with Freya on my back - stupid as it may sound. And of course, Freya wanted to have me to herself in the evenings. Well, I was looking forward to that too; apart from the fun, it made me feel fully human.

Finally, after many farewells and with some fresh greens, some cold chicken meat and a loaf of bread in the saddlebags, the village disappeared into the distance. Soon the fields and meadows were behind us and we entered the forest again. The sun had already dropped behind the hills. Ahead of us was the final climb to the ridge that separated us from the Kren Valley. With an unspoken agreement, we started looking for campsites. And a nice one came up, a clearing with a large patch of soft moss and a small spring gurgling nearby. It was a shame not to stop here, as we were in no hurry to reach Krenburg. Especially as neither of us had a clear idea of what this meant for our future.

For me, it meant a smelly town with narrow streets and a severe lack of trees. Yes, trees. Of all the aspects of my body, I embraced squirrel the most. Now with a real one as my companion. So, in the late afternoon light, the two of us answered the strong call of the treetops: Pip and I went on a long game of chase. Freya used the time to build a fire in the dwindling twilight.

Soon it was too dark to jump between the trees. And I was exhausted after all the running with the children. More falling than climbing down, I landed with a solid thud and walked slowly over to Freya, my arms hanging tiredly. I fell sideways onto the moss, completely exhausted. Pip jumped on top of me and did a victory chuk-chuk dance. I just lay there in the slightly wet and soft moss, gathering breath and some strength, and staring into the flames of the small fire. "Nice fire making."

Freya sighed. "You made a nice fire. And I made some tea."

I was surprised that she had brought a kettle from the village. And looking at the fire, she had not. She had boiled the water in the leather bag. I did not know that was possible. And I was worried, knowing the foul smell of the water from that bag. But I was in for a surprise, it was a nice herbal tea. Where did she get the herbs for that? "Freya, great!" I felt much better. "Where getting leaves?"

"Where did you get the leaves. And I'm a healer," she said, stating the obvious. "I should know my herbs."

How could I forget!

Then she passed me a thick slice of toasted bread while she picked up a well-done chicken leg roasting by the fire. I took some greens from the saddlebag and ate them with the bread, alternatingly yawning and chewing.

Freya was still full of energy, of course. She had rested most of the day, apart from healing. She quickly tore the last of the meat from the bone and threw it into the thicket, not worrying about attracting predators. "No sleep for the big cat yet!" And then she was over me, tired but still enjoying her attention.

* * *

As usual, I awoke at dawn. Still on my side, a bad choice for my long, divided spine with the broad middle shoulders and wide hips, even with the moss. I was hugging Freya with my front paws and my back paws were still on her buttocks. I carefully brushed her hair with the outstretched claws of my left hand, wincing as every movement hurt.

Freya slept on without stirring. She was so young, almost a girl. Then she moved and murmured "Kiara". I felt guilty, Freya had caught it badly. And tomorrow night we would be in the capital. Although I had no idea of the level of tolerance (which in my world had also varied greatly from era to era), Freya did not give me the impression that open lesbian love was common. Next came the white elephant, or rather the brown and white squirrel-cat taur, who wondered if I would be considered human at all. I had the easy part, I felt a deep affection for a normal human and I was certainly outside any existing rules. But for the others, Freya had fallen in love with a monster. Well, according to the children, a cute monster, but certainly something outside any conventions.

But foremost, my back hurt and the paws on my left side had fallen asleep. Very carefully I released the hug; Freya slept on like a rock, as usual. Pip, on the other hand, awoke as soon as I stirred and looked at me with his head tilted.

I winced as I rolled over and got up very slowly. As punishment for the unusual sleeping position and the evening, every muscle ached, almost screamed, when I finally got down on all fours, my legs, arms, paws, fingers and even my claw muscles. I would never have guessed that the claw retractor muscles could hurt. Definitely too much squirrelling out yesterday. On top of that, my left legs were tingling from falling asleep and I almost fell over again when I tried to move. I waited a while for the tingling to fade and then carefully walked a few steps.

The morning was chilly and thick mist hung between the trees. My human skin was covered in goosebumps and my shirt was still where Freya had eagerly liberated me of it last evening. Now cold and damp. And I stank of cinnamon, full of twigs, leaves and acorns, in short, I desperately needed a wash. But without a towel, that would have to wait for more pleasant temperatures later. And I was hungry again, but that could be taken care of with a few fresh leaves from a couple of trees with a coating of dew.

Freya was still asleep when the first rays of the morning sun broke through the mist. I walked very slowly to the small spring and washed my human torso. I used some needles to dry myself, but a real towel would have been nice, especially on such a chilly morning. Pip was up in the trees looking for some young seeds or a bird's egg or something. Even when I returned, Freya was still asleep. I would take advantage of that, as I was still chilly. I snuggled up next to her, but this time against her back with my head just behind hers, using my tail as a kind of blanket for my lower body. Shamelessly I enjoyed her warmth.

A little later the sun reached our clearing and it quickly became warm enough for Freya to open her eyes. Immediately I was standing over her. "Good morning."

She kissed me back. For a moment, I cursed for being 500 years away from the invention of mouthwash and toothpaste as her breath of old chicken meat hit me. But mine was probably no better, and anyway, she tasted better down there every time.