Page 34 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

My thoughts are cut short by a pair of soft lips pressing against my own.

Without giving me adequate time to return the kiss, or deepen it, Mariane pulls back and whispers, “I’m truly glad you’re alright, Vannaria. I don’t know what I would’ve done had I lost you.”

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I wrap my arms around her again and whisper back, “The feeling is mutual, Mariane.”

Smiling gently, she gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before slowly pulling free from my grasp and climbing to her feet. After tugging her trousers back into their proper position and refastening her belt, she holds out a hand to help me up as well. I allow her to assist me in standing, then go about fixing my own trousers, grimacing at the feel of the damp fabric of my shorts rubbing against my still-wet cunt.

This is going to make for an uncomfortable next stretch of travel.

Doing my best to ignore the sensation, I gather up the rest of my clothes and armor. Then all of Rayne’s daggers that are scattered throughout our makeshift battlefield. And my bow, which had somehow ended up half-way underneath the corpse of a nearly decapitated human man.

Another corpse lies next to him. A half-orc with a pool of blood surrounding his abdomen, his hand still loosely gripping the large sword lying beside him. I’m fairly certain this was the first man Aren had attempted to set ablaze. They’d missed. Which means this must be Mariane’s handiwork. Both of these corpses, actually.

I grow more impressed with her each passing moment.

Stealing a quick glance at Mariane, I see her crouched over Ashana, fully clothed and swords already slung over her shoulders as she rifles through the numerous pouches attached to the giantkin’s belt. Smiling to myself, I follow suit and begin checking the pockets of the other mercenaries.

Dead men have no need for gold after all.

As I’m tucking a bundle of herbs into my travel bag, a black figure in my periphery catches my attention. Whipping my head towards it, I sigh in relief realizing it’s just Ashana’s horse slowly heading our way, its head low enough that its reins drag the ground. My relieved sigh turns into a strangled gasp when I also realize just how much the beast resembles Razoni, the unicorn from Aren’s memories.

While obviously not a unicorn, the similarities to Razoni are enough that I can’t help but to feel sympathy towards the animal. With a groan, I stand up straight and begin slowly making my way towards the massive horse. Having also noticed its approach, Mariane pauses her investigation of the woman’s body, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth as she takes in the animal’s body language.

I find myself surprised again when the horse allows me to gather its reins without incident, simply lifting its large head to blow a loud huff of air directly into my face. Mariane bursts out laughing, of course, and it’s all I can do not to do the same, not wanting to spook our new friend. Apparently just now noticing the other horse’s presence, Adaman whinnies excitedly, the sound of his hoofbeats following as he canters towards us.

The much larger horse snorts in my ear, bobbing its head towards Adaman in a way that suggests desired friendship, not aggression. Chuckling to myself, I let go of its reins and allow it to introduce itself properly. Adaman lets out another happy whinny as the two horses bump noses with each other.

“I wonder if they somehow know each other?” Mariane asks from beside me, having closed the distance between us without me realizing.

“Who knows.” I shrug. “Anything is possible, I’d imagine. Perhaps Ashana stole it from the same individual I stole Adaman from. Whoever it may have been.”

Mariane shakes her head, smiling fondly at the two horses now prancing around each other. “Well, whoever they both might’ve originally belonged to, we can’t possibly leave it behind now. It would break poor Adaman’s heart.”

“I agree.”

Before I can say anything further, Mariane says, “Dibs,” shooting me a mischievous grin before jogging towards the massive steed.

Barking out a laugh, I jog after her, already knowing that whatever the woman wanted, I’d more than happily let her have.

Thankfully, we’d still managed to make it to Girnir right as the sun was beginning to set. Partially because Mariane had decided to goad me into a race, claiming she wanted to test out her new mount. Right after declaring his new name was Obsidian. I hadn’t argued, of course. Though I had won the race, Adaman once again proving himself the greatest steed in all the lands. Mariane’s pouting had been short-lived, choosing instead to boast about how much she towered over us both from atop her much taller horse.

I’d laughed while Adaman had simply snorted, shaking his head as if he’d somehow understood her.

As of right now, both horses are on the edge of town waiting with Mariane while I attempt to find us safe lodgings for the night. Some time ago we’d had a friend in this city, but it’s been so long since we’ve passed through that there’s no way of knowing if they still call this place home. Remembering which house they’d lived in is proving an even bigger challenge.

Unlike Brenhill, Girnir is a lively city, with well-lit merchant shops lining the main thoroughfare selling all sorts of colorful…things, and all sorts of fairly well dressed townspeople going about their lives. As if they don’t live in fear of getting purse-snatched the moment they turn their back to a stranger.

The shops slowly transition into homes the farther out from the main road you get, and while they’re all in good repair, they’re also all quite similar in appearance. Hence why I’m having difficulties remembering which one housed our old friend.

Cursing under my breath, I toss the hood of my cloak over my head and abandon the shadows I’d been sticking to. The tavern filled to the brim with boisterous patrons would no doubt be the easiest place to find information, but it would also be the easiest place to find trouble. We’ve had enough of that already today.

Instead, I circle back to a small bakery I’d passed when first entering the city. It had stood out from all the other buildings around it thanks to the ivy growing up the walls. The yellow flowers blooming throughout the vines had also reminded me a bit of Mariane’s eyes when she’s a wolf.

I’m also quite famished and so the potential for a snack to go along with the information I’m looking for was too tempting to pass up. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who would like a delicious pastry after the day we’ve had.

There’s an alley between the bakery and the shop next to it, which I take advantage of while I wait for a carriage to roll by, the occupants inside clearly enjoying themselves based on their laughter. Right as it passes, two elven men walk out of a tailor across the street, arm in arm. A faint smile makes its way onto my face, watching them lean into each other as they continue on down the road.

With a quick glance back and forth to make sure no one is approaching the bakery, I step out of the shadows. As I walk up to the door, I see the sign above it reads Rosie’s Bountiful Bakery and has those same small yellow flowers painted above each letter I in place of the usual dot. Along with what looks like a loaf of bread with a bit of steam rising up from it.