I'm on a roll!
Pistachio #29. Furry Friends
Rating : G
Timeframe : late fall/early winter 1260
Lyssa huddled along the edge of the broad steps leading up to the inn, beneath the narrow overhang of its roof. She clutched a mug in both hands, letting the steam waft over her face without ever bothering to sample the contents. Her shoulders sagged beneath the cloak she had carelessly draped over them, the empty sleeves dangling at her sides.
People passed before her, locals on their daily routes. Lyssa stared into their midst, her mind able to register the general commotion, though the movement of individuals eluded her attention. The more distance they covered, the more ordinary life resumed around them. She doubted news of the battle had even reached this far yet. She found watching people go about their daily lives to be surreal. She wanted both to leap to her feet and demand to know if they were all blind, and to slink away and hide, never to look at anyone again. Her sigh sent ripples across the dark liquid she cradled.
There was a stirring of her cloak and a gentle nudge against her side. Out of habit, a hand fell from her drink to stroke the head of the cat that pressed itself to her. Her fingers wound through soft fur, eliciting a deep, rumbling purr. Somehow Millie always knew when she was needed.
Lyssa blinked. She’d last seen Millie at the fort. She would be miles away if she was even still alive. It must be some other cat. How she’d even known it was a cat when it rubbed against her, she was hard pressed to say. Her eyes fell over what was, most definitely, a cat, and a calico at that. The ear beneath her hand was orange, the other white. She counted the spots and noted the colors all the way down the animal’s back. Not a one was out of place.
“Millie?” she said. As if to confirm, the cat gave a meow and forced its head more firmly into her palm.
The opening of the door behind her didn’t register, as she continued to stare at the cat that had to, yet couldn’t possibly, be Millie. A pair of boots and the hem of a blue cloak settled on the step beside the cat.
Lyssa lifted her eyes to meet Ski’s. Her sister was pale, as she often seemed to be in the morning lately. In light of the tossing and turning that kept her up half the night any time their lodgings forced them to share a bed, Lyssa had little need to ask why. Ski’s brows knit as she noticed that cat. “That looks like…”
“Millie?” Lyssa finished. Ski nodded. “I don’t see how,” she said, continuing to scratch her ears. “But it seems like it is Millie.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
Lyssa frowned. “If she could… I mean, she came all this way somehow to find us. Shouldn’t she be with Rune?”
Ski just shrugged. Lyssa was relieved she made no mention of her own decision not to track the man down. “Perhaps she had some reason to want to be with us.” She gave her cloak a tug, tightening it around her shoulders. “It’s freezing out here. Why don’t you come back inside?” She turned for the door without waiting for a response.
“Come on, Millie,” Lyssa said, depositing her drink on the stoop in favor of the cat. Millie settled against her chest and Lyssa retrieved her drink before following Ski inside.
Rating : G
Timeframe : late fall/early winter 1260
Lyssa huddled along the edge of the broad steps leading up to the inn, beneath the narrow overhang of its roof. She clutched a mug in both hands, letting the steam waft over her face without ever bothering to sample the contents. Her shoulders sagged beneath the cloak she had carelessly draped over them, the empty sleeves dangling at her sides.
People passed before her, locals on their daily routes. Lyssa stared into their midst, her mind able to register the general commotion, though the movement of individuals eluded her attention. The more distance they covered, the more ordinary life resumed around them. She doubted news of the battle had even reached this far yet. She found watching people go about their daily lives to be surreal. She wanted both to leap to her feet and demand to know if they were all blind, and to slink away and hide, never to look at anyone again. Her sigh sent ripples across the dark liquid she cradled.
There was a stirring of her cloak and a gentle nudge against her side. Out of habit, a hand fell from her drink to stroke the head of the cat that pressed itself to her. Her fingers wound through soft fur, eliciting a deep, rumbling purr. Somehow Millie always knew when she was needed.
Lyssa blinked. She’d last seen Millie at the fort. She would be miles away if she was even still alive. It must be some other cat. How she’d even known it was a cat when it rubbed against her, she was hard pressed to say. Her eyes fell over what was, most definitely, a cat, and a calico at that. The ear beneath her hand was orange, the other white. She counted the spots and noted the colors all the way down the animal’s back. Not a one was out of place.
“Millie?” she said. As if to confirm, the cat gave a meow and forced its head more firmly into her palm.
The opening of the door behind her didn’t register, as she continued to stare at the cat that had to, yet couldn’t possibly, be Millie. A pair of boots and the hem of a blue cloak settled on the step beside the cat.
Lyssa lifted her eyes to meet Ski’s. Her sister was pale, as she often seemed to be in the morning lately. In light of the tossing and turning that kept her up half the night any time their lodgings forced them to share a bed, Lyssa had little need to ask why. Ski’s brows knit as she noticed that cat. “That looks like…”
“Millie?” Lyssa finished. Ski nodded. “I don’t see how,” she said, continuing to scratch her ears. “But it seems like it is Millie.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
Lyssa frowned. “If she could… I mean, she came all this way somehow to find us. Shouldn’t she be with Rune?”
Ski just shrugged. Lyssa was relieved she made no mention of her own decision not to track the man down. “Perhaps she had some reason to want to be with us.” She gave her cloak a tug, tightening it around her shoulders. “It’s freezing out here. Why don’t you come back inside?” She turned for the door without waiting for a response.
“Come on, Millie,” Lyssa said, depositing her drink on the stoop in favor of the cat. Millie settled against her chest and Lyssa retrieved her drink before following Ski inside.