I not exactly fuming. The walk back to my apartment is plenty of time for my head to cool off. I am, however, still peeved that Deirdre can be so infuriating sometimes. She hasn't spoken a word to me since the changing room.

Between the two of us hauling my new clothes and supplies home the trip is a short one. Getting them sorted and put away also doesn't take long, but it does allow me plenty of time to anticipate being judged by Deirdre. Of course I had to let her inside my tiny room. Making her stand outside would have been both rude and weird. 

What would she say this time? That I was an idiot for getting something so small? That I shouldn’t have chosen this part of town?

Infuriatingly, Deirdre doesn't make fun of my small apartment. The self control of her face never falters. No doubt she would voice her discontent if I did something she didn’t like, but at least for now she wasn’t criticizing my choices. She didn’t say anything, didn’t comment, didn’t offer any input at all. She just stood around while I put everything away in appropriate nooks and crannies. 

Even after this shopping trip I didn’t have much to my name, it would all fit nicely in my small wardrobe and the couple of drawers that my room featured. I would need to head out and buy some clothes hangers, washcloths, boot brushes, and myriad other everyday items, but that was for another day.

Finishing the business of putting things away is followed by the relief that Deirdre recommends we head out for a bite to eat. Not a relief because we're going to go get food together, but relief I don’t have to wait any longer with baited breath for the next thing she is going to say to me. My irrational fear that something awkward was settling between us was misplaced.

Thank goodness for that.  

Besides, it’s hard to find fault with the idea of heading out for a nice meal. Our job is a tough one. We really do wake up early, then spend much of the day hiking around. Even if today that hiking was cut in half I'd still had only some jerky, and some dried biscuits to eat along the way.

Tonight I'm led to a familiar place, it’s actually one of the taverns I had been hoping to rent a room from. The upstairs is reserved for guests, but the downstairs is a massive public dinning room with two blazing hearths on opposite sides. After we steal a table for ourselves we’re quickly served up the finest greasy meaty stew money can buy. With sourdough bread to sop it all up with, and refreshing juice to wash it down, it really hits the spot.

It also gives us time to talk, I guess.

Again I find that Deirdre in the evening is more carefree, less intimidating, and less rigidly in control at all times. It’s the little things, she stops looking so tense, and guarded. 

It's not like I think she’s really letting herself unwind after the day, but there is definitely something brewing under the surface.

It's like she's always trying to keep a lid on her feelings, maybe the impersonal detached work-aholic Deirdre is all an act? I saw it when she first took me to Mel's, the friendliness she hides underneath it all. She’s not a bad person, her stone cold attitude is purposeful, at least I think it is.

I shouldn’t, and I mean I really shouldn’t be psychoanalyzing my business partner. Deirdre has shown me the ropes, she's protected me from killer Monsters. Bvench and Dorg were friendly Hunter companions, but I’m supremely grateful that I’ve been able to spend the last week with Deirdre instead. If I overstep I might miss an opportunity to keep Deirdre on my team, and I would massively regret that. 

Still, this could be the perfect time to ask her what she gets up to in her free time. What's the harm in asking? How best to approach the question with Deirdre is anyone’s guess so I just come right out and ask directly.

My hope is that maybe, just maybe I'll get an idea of what she gets up to when she's not working, eating, or sleeping.

“Soooooo, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Plans? I think the South side of the river is due for a good look. We get a lot of the cast offs from the forest to the Northwest, but I'm sure there is a lot lurking to the South too. Waldonton’s logging operations use that river so it’s not a bad idea to give it a more thorough patrol every once and a while, even if all the local logging camps have guards stationed at them.”

Over the din of noise our fellow tavern goers are kicking up it's almost difficult to pick up her soft and composed words.

“Wait, patrol? You’re not taking tomorrow off, er- we’re not taking tomorrow off?”

I hadn't even considered we might be working tomorrow. Deirdre's stoic façade never falters.

“Why would we take any days off Evelyn? The Monsters don’t take days off. There will still be a few butchers open for business we can sell too if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, no, I just thought, well you said Monday was the day of rest around here. The only other Monday I've spent here was entirely inside the Newcomer Building. I just thought we would take the day off too.”

“No, no we’re not taking the day off,” says Deirdre coolly, calmly. 

 

***

 

The sun has only crept a finger over the horizon when we’re out the gate this morning. It's far too soon to be awake, and I still don't have coffee for these early mornings. My new boots are being a pain due to my having to try to break them in from scratch. I still have my secret weapon, Recovery. It’s a balm for my aching feet every thirty seconds that I'm able to keep my Spell active. Recovery is a two fold boon in this sort of situation. If I’ve got something like a blister it works to heal it, but it also rejuvenates, which soothes my aching muscles. In this case the soreness on the heel of my foot. 

The only downside to casting Recovery on the Party constantly is that it somehow, though it should not be possible, has made Deirdre even more headstrong. I suppose before my Spell she still had to deal with her calves burning whenever she marched up a hillside for a vantage point. Now, my Spell is making that easier for her. Still, better than when I was struggling just to stay along side her my first couple days.

For the first thirty minutes we need only to follow dirt roads past farmsteads. Much of the surrounding land around Waldonton proper is full of farm plots, Many are made up of neat rows of different color plant stalks. I don’t know what they are, wheat? Barley? Something like that, or at least a very similar to Earth crop from that isn't quite the same after a millennia of divergent natural selection.

The drop off past the farms is near instant. Nobody would dare settle too far from town when Monsters might drop in on them. The last of Waldonton's watchtowers also end here, sentries stand atop them on guard duty. The town's lookouts are the main warning to prevent a Monster attack. It would be highly improbable for a Monster to make it past the watchtowers, past the farms, and to the town proper without someone seeing it and ringing some warning bells, they’re not exactly masters of stealth infiltration. 

Our work, ranging beyond town to slay Monsters that is, also helps a great deal. We’re not the only local Hunters, not by a long shot. All Hunters heading further afield will of course kill anything that crosses their path as well. It's a healthy balance, at least for a town this size. Everyone working in and around town is safe, and the constant Hunting brings in a bunch of extra meat for food and parts for magical crafting. 

The dirt roads turn to single file rutted trails which turn to unbroken plains and hills. Every gully out this way is packed full of brambles and shrubs. Any one of these pockets of dense green might conceal a sleeping Monster just waiting to wake and attack.

Fortunately, or unfortunately the sound of running water ahead arrives before our first encounter of the day. The sun is up now, a whole hand above the horizon, late morning no doubt. We haven't exactly arrived at an easy place to cross our river target. The two of us are definitely going to be getting wet soon. Deirdre takes a few moments to scan the far shoreline, to me it looks about twenty meters across.

“Alright, about waist deep, we can keep going upstream and hope to get lucky or just cross here.”

Oh, is she asking for my opinion while on the hunt? That’s new.

“Sooner we get across the sooner we start drying, right?”

“Yes,” she says curtly while digging around in her pack.

Before long Deirdre has a length of rope and is tying it onto her belt, I'm instructed to follow suit which I quickly manage. A few tugs insures I'm nice and tied up. I'm unsure if it's better for our fates to be tied if one of us gets swept away by the current, but Deirdre seems to think so, and what Deirdre thinks tends to be what we end up doing.

The current threatens to sweep us away while we cross. I more worried about Deirdre than myself, my halfling companion is almost an entire head shorter than me. My height is pretty uninteresting, unless you add my horn height, then I’m maybe taller than most. Compared to Deirdre however I have a marked advantage crossing this river, I’ll be dealing with the water reaching my waist, she will be fighting the water as high as her armpits.

The river stones are slippery with moss or algae, and good footing is non-existent. It’s cold as well, refreshingly cold but also the holy-fucking-shit-that’s-cold kind of cold. Still, we make our way across. Trying to climb out of the opposite bank forces us against a slope of mud, which we trudge valiantly into. Slipping now would be just the worst.

Every step is trying to keep me stuck, but eventually the hardpacked ground returns and I find myself next to Deirdre with my hands on my hips catching my breath.

Boy, the effort and cold really takes it out of you quickly doesn't it?

We’ve made it to a small saddle between two rocky hills. The valley between the hills is no valley at all, just dense brush. After a drink of water, some scraping of our boots against a rock, and some general whining on my part, Deirdre gestures toward the hill on our right and starts the trek forward to choose a path towards its top. She’s out ahead of me quickly, trailblazing for us as I slow walk some distance behind still dripping water from my trousers and shirt.   

Snapping branches herald the arrival of trouble. I jerk my head up, looking for the source of the sounds, but it’s not until I see movement that I learn what's coming. 

Darting from the underbrush is a multi-tailed feline-like Monster. Each tail flows behind the bounding creature like long and sinewy whips of leather. All of the tails feature stark white tips of bones sticking out of them. What probably started out as some variety of mountain cat is now stained with dark purple splotches on its tan and white fur. It has bulging eyes, unnaturally bright and blazed with the magic that has run wild inside the creature. The thing is screeching. 

Deirdre, higher on the hill, and further ahead has her spear out and ready.

But the Monster isn’t heading for her, its claws, snapping teeth, and its bizarre tail flails are all heading straight for me.

Scrambling backwards only brings me closer towards the river, which offers no retreat. From behind the Monster I can see Deirdre careening down the short slope in my direction but even if she used her speed Ability I knew she would be unable to intercept in time.

I raise my sword, holding it before me and in the same moment the Monster pounces into the air on a trajectory towards my face, I cast Aegis.

I didn’t have a hope of deflecting the attack. A claw, I think, is the first thing that catches me, running along the side of my face. The Monster is heavy, so much more heavy than I’d anticipated, I feel the weight of it against my outstretched arms as it impacts me like we are jousting. During it’s descent back towards the ground it's tails must have caught me too. It's strike is like a multitude of knives driving into my forearms, shoulder and neck. One pass and I'm shredded. Between the impact, and the deep slashes I'm bounced to the side like I weigh nothing at all.

Falling down in a heap, something hot and sticky runs down my face.

I can’t see.

Deirdre is yelling, I don’t know what words she’s saying. Sharp points like a vice dig into my shoulder.

Teeth?

I'm dragged several feet before something squeals, and I hear Deirdre's footsteps and clattering close by.

It's hard to make out clearly, there is a pounding pulse in my ears, my heartbeat I think.

Without much else to see I focus on my Spells, and watching my internal clock. The countdowns move so slowly this way. I have to indicate to cast, but luckily Party is an entity in my mind, and I only need to conceptually indicate at that target. Recovery is added to Aegis, which are now both active on our Party.

Deirdre would probably like my Empower Spell too right?

Yeah.

I add that as well.

How much Mana do I have left anyways? I never figured out how to perceive those single bits of Mana did I?

I should really do that some time.

Deirdre's going to be cross with me again when she finds out.

The sounds of fighting drift further, then back closer, and then things just become very loud, a roar?

I’m being dragged again, but this time it’s by small and careful hands.

I'm pulled out of the sucking mud of the riverbank and onto something more grassy.

Suddenly there's water being poured on my face. Blinking away the liquid reveals a blurry canteen and Deirdre’s terse looking gaze. It's hard to make out whatever she is saying to me, but I make out my name at least.

“Evelyn. Evelyn,” she repeats.

Above me Deirdre is looming. There is some rummaging around. Cursing. I’m poked and prodded a bit. Finally I feel a hand come to the side of my face. Deirdre’s pawing at me. I can feel fingers holding onto my chin tightly, and I can just barely understand the words Deirdre is saying to me. 

“Open. Your. Mouth.”

My teeth are clenched tight, I realize then. Relaxing that instinct is hard, but I do it eventually, or Deirdre's fingers pry my jaw open.

One or the other.

With one hand prying my mouth open Deirdre uses her other hand to empty a small bottle filled with brownish red liquid down my throat, which I promptly choke on. I’m too weak to thrash around much, and Deirdre holds me still anyways.

“Keep casting,” she commands.

Oh.

That's Right.

Casting.

Everything stings and the pounding rush behind my ears and inside my skull is still all encompassing.

They’re a snapping sound. Finger snapping. It’s Deirdre, still hovering above me. She’s the one snapping.

“Cast. Recovery.”

Oh.

Right.

I press the enter button in my mind.

What follows is mostly white hot pain. Deirdre keeps me on track, telling me to cast Recovery every little bit. The pain is like having hot pokers stuck in me at various points, but it dulls as the minutes pass.

The potion, I think, takes the edge off. However much of my wounds the potion managed to knit it was enough for me to not feel like death. I’m not going to be stupid and try to sit up, everything still hurts after all.  

Laying there, I feel like I've been through a wood chipper. As lucidity comes back to me I can watch as Deirdre works. Our packs are gathered up. She puts one behind my back and props me up. I'm reminded to keep casting a few times. She dribbles water from my canteen into my mouth which is a total pain to try and drink.

She drags the cat Monster closer to gut while keeping a watchful eye on me. Her routine includes coming back over to me for a check up every few minutes. Deirdre also issues loud verbal reminders for me to keep casting Recovery if I’m ever delinquent on my Party affecting Spell.

I’m alone for a moment, as my partner then heads to the river bank to refill our canteens. I can still see her of course. Upon her return she helps me drink more.

“You’ll be on your feet proper in an hour. Best to let your injuries set first. We’ll head back then, slowly, but we won’t make it until past dark, so no point in trying to rush. Thirsty? More water?” she speaks in a caring sort of tone, but only just.

“Y-yeah,” I reply, because more water sounds amazing, “how bad is it?”

Deirdre's hands carefully tilt my head back a smidge as I'm treated to another small sip of blessed water, then she steps back to stand beside me.

I can’t make out much of my own wounds, besides my right arm. That sleeve is shredded, and ruined with dried blood. Underneath I know there were furrows in my arm going up to my shoulder, but until I can wipe them off I won’t be able to get a good look. Are they even fully closed? Recently knit shut? Just an ugly scar? or maybe even completely healed over?

“You’re okay. A light mauling all things considered. You’ll drink another potion when we start our walk back. Keep casting your Spell.”

This close I can make out the impassive set of her face. Like always, Deirdre comes off as calm and collected, and it’s nice that she is. If Deirdre was panicking right now, I think that’d go a great deal in driving me to panic too.

“You’re going to be just fine,” she says again, leaning down to pat my knee before leaving to walk about our little clearing.

Was I so badly hurt from just a single attack from a small Monster? Worse, this was how much damage it did to me with my Spell Aegis protecting me?

For a good while, I just stay still, breathing, letting the potion do it's thing, and letting my healing Spell work.

Tentatively, and after another good while of sitting patiently I decide to carefully start to test myself. My first objective is to clench my fist, which I manage just fine, but there is some soreness up along my arm.

Reaching very slowly I lift the canteen Deirdre left beside me. Maybe it's the movement, but I can see Deirdre nearby glance in my direction before her eyes flick back to our surroundings, it seems like she’s very focused on keeping watch while I’m picking myself back up.

Firstly, I pour some water over my arms and try to rub the blood and the mud off the site of where I got cut up to take a look at it. Mostly I just spread the mud and blood around but more water does the trick as I can start to get a picture of the injury. The marks on my arms are not that bad, right now they look like fresh pink scar lines. The trail consists of jagged raised raw flesh running up my arm and shoulder past where I can see. Against my normally light red skin the pinkish-ivory scar tissue stands out clearly.

I fiddle around with my wounds until I’m out of water. Recovery I’m sure will keep healing me very slowly, but I wanted to check out as much of me as possible to see just how bad a state I am in.

Minute by minute I start to test my range of motion. Does it hurt to twist? A little. How about turning my head to look left, right, up, and down? Somewhat. Besides a dull pain in the places I was hit the hardest, the most pressing feeling I feel is a whole body stiffness. It's not going to be pretty trying to walk around like this. If I'm even able to walk that is, dizziness flits around my consciousness like a looming cloud.

Fortunately I don't have to try to walk on my own, my efforts are eventually interrupted by Deirdre who comes to help me stand. 

Time to get back on my feet then, she's probably keeping better track of time than I am right now.

Standing is actually easy. Being covered in dried blood and caked on mud is not. My hair is a heavy clump of terribleness. My brand new shirt, which was thicker and designed for rugged use is cut to hell all along my right side. The act of moving so much pulls strangely on some sore muscles, and the dull pain cuts deep right to my core, a daunting ache.

“Thanks,” I say, as I gather my footing and Deirdre takes a step back.

“Try taking a few steps. Lets see if you’re fit to walk.”

Following along beside me Deirdre and I take a few steps together. I make a short circuit of the little clearing we’ve claimed. Each step is so much more jarring than it should be. My legs were spared much of the Monster’s damage, but my right side was hit pretty hard and somehow each step tries to flex those muscles.

“So, did I get it?” I ask, with a slight smile pointed towards Deirdre.

“What?”

My jesting sails right past her.

“My sword, did I at least stab it a little before I went down?”

She doesn’t return even the slightest hint of humor, still wearing a deadly serious but neutral mask.

“Oh, maybe Evelyn, I'm unsure. I took it down as fast as I could to make sure you got a healing potion down as soon as possible. So perhaps.”

“Well, I’m sure I helped, gave as good as I got and such. Thank you, for the potion and stuff.”

“Of course. Anything hurt?”

What follows is Deirdre hovering around me like a fly, checking my back, my shoulder, my neck, the side of my face. She turns me gently this way and that as she looks for anything still in need of more time devoted to healing.

“As soon as we start moving you might aggravate your wounds, you’ll drink another healing potion to alleviate that possibility, and then we’ll get you across the river," she states.

"Drat, sure you don't want to keep Hunting? The day is young," I say with a mock heedless grin.

Deirdre at least sighs at me, which I'll consider a positive reaction. 

Everything that was inside of my backpack is emptied into Deirdre’s then mine is wrapped tight with a cord of rope and tied to her pack, her oiled bag for monster parts sits above her backpack, strapped down atop it. It’s a good thing we don’t travel around with that much.

My boots are in fine shape, nothing wrong with them, and I don’t need a perfectly functional tunic top to walk.

Getting me back across the river involves Deirdre pressed against my side, arms halfway wrapped around me as we crab shuffled step by step. The splashing water was helping me get cleaned off at least, so that was a positive.

The crossing itself was tiring. Too tiring. It felt as if it took ages. The cold numbed some of my lingering pain, but doubled the bone deep ache I was already dealing with. The halfling at my side was my only source of warmth.

On the other side of this ill fated river I was allowed another sit down. Deirdre kept watch. Even with my constant casting I’m just a bruise of a person and fighting the current and the cold did me no favors. I don't know how long I sat around, but I was close to shivering by time we readied to keep going. 

When I was energized enough to reach my top clip our progress didn’t increase by much. It had taken us hours to make it out this far after all, and heading back at a crawl of a pace meant every expanse of shrubbery or small clump of rolling hills started to blend together even more than usual. The whole while Deirdre stayed right by my side with a hand resting on the crook of my left arm to help catch me if I stumbled. I stumbled several times. I also took several breaks. There was no enjoyable conversation to pass the time.

Conversation between Deirdre and I was typically me asking about the world and Deirdre answering. In our time together so far it was rare for Deirdre to spontaneously start up conversation. When it did happen it never amounted to a story of any kind, just general random advice about Monster Hunting. During our trip back there was none of that from Deirdre, and I simply hand no extra energy to think up questions to ask.

It was dark when we reached the thin and poorly broken trails beyond the farms, but it wasn’t dark by much. It took probably another hour of agonizing hobbling to make it to town proper. So close to rest and relief it was impossible not to be motivated forward.

The evening had it's fair share of people roaming about, but nobody tried to stop two women limping along in faded sunlight and occasion outside lamplight, perhaps even more so because one of them sporting a lot of dried blood.

Deirdre saw me all the way to my door, found my key and got me inside, and then helped me collapse into a small chair.

Sitting, breathing hard, numb with throbbing pain from the exertion of trek back, Deirdre started to slowly peel back my top. It only got caught on each of my horns once. No doubt dried cakes of mud would destroy the sanctity of my floor, but that couldn’t be helped. Deirdre tossed my shredded top aside and left me goosepimpled by the night air in just my newly acquired and fancy sports bra from the waist up.  

While I sat there she ran off for a bucket and water marching past our dirty packs which had been haphazardly tossed in the corner upon our arrival. There was meat too, in one of the bags, no doubt that would start to smell up my place if left about for too long.

Only when Deirdre returned to help me clean off did I remember I didn’t even own a washcloth, but I did own a towel, which was dragooned into service by Deirdre who has assumed the role of in charge of whatever the hell was currently happening to me. 

The water, which quickly became cool only added to my discomfort. Deirdre wasn’t exactly rough while helping to scrub off the detritus still clinging to me, but there was no way to be gentle enough that it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Between two healing potions and hours of casting Recovery on myself it was safe to say I was no longer really hurt. What I was, was exhausted and sore.

Perhaps more expensive healing potions, or more powerful healing magic could bring someone back to tip top shape faster, but I lacked both of those options.   

Where the Monster had cut me deeply I was left tender. Honestly, it was remarkable that a couple of potions containing only a shot's worth of liquid and some Spells that I can freely use all day long had even done so much to help.

All things considered, if something like this had happened on Earth I’d firstly, be dead, and secondly, require an emergency room and an extended hospital stay. Walking it off after an hour or so and then likely sleeping it off entirely was an insane feat.

Deirdre deemed me clean after fussing with my hair for far too long. I knew I was still filthy, but a full bath and scrub down would have to wait. I was walked over towards me bed expectantly by which point Deirdre asked if I needed help getting undressed.

Of course I’d be in a situation like this with her. I declined, knowing it absolutely would be nice to have someone else unlace my boots right now.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you food and be back shortly. Just, rest.”

Like I was going to go anywhere.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, I'm getting in bed, and no offense but I’m taking tomorrow off no matter what you say.”

Deirdre only looked me over with her typical level of scrutiny before silently leaving. 

She had my key, and she would come back with food, so that was really nice.

Peeling myself out of my remaining clothes was whatever the opposite of fun is. I managed it but it left me despondent and impossibly more weary. As soon as my head hit the pillow I didn’t even bother trying to fix where my horns immediately caught on the material. 

I was half asleep, or maybe even fully asleep when my door swung open. Immediately I tried to rise, which reminded me of how sore I was, and made me regret every fiber of my being.

The lighting situation in my room was like the Newcomer Building, magical sconces on the wall. The glow wasn’t all that strong, but I had four of them scattered around the room. Even in the full dark of night it was plenty for me to see Deirdre pressing into my room with arms full.

I didn’t bother to watch, I just fell back against my pillow and waited. There was the sound of a table being dragged towards my bed, then a chair being dragged towards my bed.

“Sit up, I didn’t see any kitchenware here so I stopped and grabbed some of mine.”

Opening my eyes I could make out that Deirdre had set out a spread of food. Seeing food set my stomach alert and only then made me reckon with being absolutely famished. So I swung my legs over the side of the bed to lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. The bed was too low to the ground for this, but it was fine.

Deirdre has obviously known where to pilfer a great meal on short notice. Vegetables with a thick sauce were piled high in two large covered bowls. The large soft cuts of potato in the mix of vegetables were everything I could have ask for at the moment.

At that moment I noticed the fabled change. I see her relax. The same as every other time in the evening when she stops being like stone. I can’t decide why Deirdre acts so differently in the evenings than she does while on the hunt. I want to say she’s a hot and cold type but it’s not that.

I'd examine these thoughts more thoroughly, but thinking is way too hard right now. After I've devoured as much possible I roll back into bed, no energy left to even keep my eyes open. Sleep comes to claim me quickly.