YAY! Another chapter!
In other also good ish news... I moved! (Which half explains why an update was long coming). The past month has been packing, extra work hours to pay for moving expenses, dealing with a few time consuming hookup issues to the new apartment, and the actual unpacking and labor of moving a bunch of stuff whereas it was only me and my lovely girlfriend.
And Nope. You don't get to know where I moved to. (Candyland)
Either way, I'm glad to get back into the writing groove and TRY to pump out some more consistency.
Now then, read, fav, follow, review, enjoy, and grab that strange snack. Today, mine is sandwiching chocolate ice cream in between vanilla wafers.
Remiss as she was to have to admit it, Scarlett knew she had to return home before another night passed.
Thus, her and Fen parted ways, with a swash of old memories and new information fresh on her mind.
He stayed behind with her grandmother for reasons only her Gram knew, with her venturing alone back to her house.
Reaching the small stone cottage, she sighed in both relief and a sense of longing.
The place felt cold and dim, with no Fen to greet her homecoming like an excitable pup. Sunbeams from the afternoon bleeding through the windows and lighting up the room. The hearth was ashen grey and dim as well, needing a good half hour at least to build a proper fire for cooking or heating.
The hooded young woman usually felt quite proud to have her own place, but right now she was disappointed. It felt so vast and empty, dry and cold.
As if to remind her of the fact, a chill settled in, giving her goosebumps and a shiver. Scarlett hugged herself and hunched over, letting her cloak splay over the stone floor and become like a tent around her body.
It was strange to imagine she'd lived here alone for a while, yet it never felt as cold and empty as it did now.
"I miss him," she sighed to herself, not even doing her usual mental evasiveness of justifying her feelings. She missed him. Simple as that.
Standing back up again, Scarlett decided it was best to start the fire, pulling off her cloak and hanging it up. Moving to the hearth, she found a small wooden box and pulled a long matchstick from it, with a small cloth in it to keep everything dry. The dark haired young woman then went to the stack of wood and kindling to get her fire going.
Perking up, she went back outside for a moment to grab some dry brush to bring back in. Kindling was great to get a fire going enough to burn the larger logs she would put on it, but it didn't light easily, needing something small, dry, and easy to burn.
Building a tiny tent of wood in her hearth, with a loosely packed ball of leaves and pine needles under it, she struck the matchstick on an abrasive stone, to which it sparked a flame easily. Guiding it with a protective hand, the brush lit on fire and quickly grew.
Her next half hour was spent trying to prep a meal from what she had around, not really in a mood to talk to other people in town, while also feeding some brush to the fire in small increments until it sustained itself. Thankfully, she still had some food and water around to make a meal.
From a pantry, she pulled some dry hung vegetables, salt cured beef, and some small bones to make a stew. She wouldn't eat the bones but they were useful in cracking open and letting the flavor from seep into a stew, then be removed later.
For the next hour, she was simply staring into the fire, occasionally messing with it to keep it going by shifting the wood or adding more. The pot hung above the now steady fire, simmering away with minced and chopped ingredients.
It was so much to take in, with the wolf she feared from her childhood, along with the boy she thought was killed, being the same person.
"Fenrir," she sounded out, as if reminding herself, lest she forget once more.
Scarlett grinned slightly as she knew she would still call him 'Fen', as that seemed more endearing and familiar.
The young woman began to laugh, gasping out in thought, "Fen... rear… pfft. Oh… I'm so terrible." Wiping away a tear of laughter, she grabbed a bowl and ladled a healthy helping of stew.
Now that she was away from him, there was a part of her asking, What is your connection to him?
We're apparently childhood friends, Scarlett replied easily to that voice.
Nooo… You know what I'm asking.
I actually don't, she rebuked, feeling a tinge of annoyance at… well… herself.
What is Fen to you… right now?
"He's…" the young girl started in a whisper, running a couple fingers through her hair.
There was a knock at the door that made her squeak and jump, quickly setting down her stew to bolt to the door. She peeked through a tiny hole and saw a familiar face.
Unlatching the door, Scarlett opened it…
...to be promptly hugged/tackled by a taller woman who was, by her own admission, 'half friend, half infuriating'.
"Oof… Uh… Hi there, Joan," the smaller woman grumbled out, breathing impaired by the bear hug she was captured in, her toes a few inches above the floor.
"You're looking as small and cute as ever!" Joan vented out happily.
"Thank… you?" she stated in reply, unsure if that was meant as a compliment. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Also… can you put me down?"
"Oh? Of course!" the taller woman cheered, opening her arms abruptly, letting Scarlett land a little hard. "As for why I'm here, I heard you do some tailoring."
"I do…" came her cautious response.
Joan was friend of Scarlett's for around five years, the two befriending as neighbors when the shorter still lived with her parents. The taller woman was six years older, with darker brown hair, light brown eyes and a pale complexion. They hit it off rather well, even considering she could sometimes rival her mother in the whole 'when will you find a man?' department.
In a town as close knit and not so expansively populated as others, one takes what they can get when it comes to social engagements and relationships.
Not to say she disliked her, but Scarlett found almost as many things infuriating about the slightly older woman as she did things to love.
Over the years, it was mostly Joan who initiated their visits or outings, even after Scarlett moved out into her own place.
Recently though, her visits didn't come without potentially needing to ask or request something.
"Wonderful!" chirped Joan loudly. "My darling's birthday is coming up and I was hoping to have you help me with a present."
Scarlett let her caution fade a bit as optimism bled through, replying, "That's great! I would be happy to help, if that was what you needed?"
"Absolutely, Letty," the taller lady confirmed. "Of course, I'll be paying you well. Just as well, I plan to provide the materials you need."
Slightly flabbergasted, Scarlett took that in. She knew Joan's husband had some money, being a partner in a trading company that shipped product in this region, but the two weren't exactly rolling in riches.
"Do you know what materials you want to use for it, as well as an idea of your request?" she inquired of Joan, hoping this wasn't a free for all job. It was usually nice to have artistic leeway in certain aspects of a job, but when a customer didn't even give you much more than a concept to work off of, then they could be offput by a result that is quite different than their imaginings. So, she tried to make sure they told her all they could.
"As for that… I'm afraid I'm none too clear on an idea," she told Scarlett, the shorter female deflating a bit at hearing that. Joan noticed and amended politely, "Which is why I was hoping you were free today to go perusing the market with me for fabrics and figuring out what would be something my dear Eldred would like. If it helps, winter is coming and I would love to help replace his older coats with something newer. He can be a bit too practical and I believe it would help his meetings with prospective clients if he looked more… fashionable."
"Mind if I eat first, then we can go?" the shorter woman asked with a fading tone, feeling tired but not wanting to give up what could only be a lucrative offer. "In fact, would you like some?"
"Absolutely!" the older woman agreed easily. "I must say you've done so well for yourself. I'm almost envious."
"Almost?" Scarlett teased with a mild snicker.
"Well I can't deny I certainly enjoy the security of having a husband who provides," Joan began, "but your independence, especially in a world of… narrow minded men… can't be easy to maintain. I'm envious of your ability to do as you have and the will to strive for more."
"It's not as difficult as you might think," the younger lady mentioned, giving her friend a bowl of stew. "You just have to ignore the status quo people tell you. Though, to be honest, my main drive is that I want to decide my life for myself, not be corralled into a single end because it's expected."
"I suppose you're right, though part of that reason is why I came to you. I wanted to do something aside from my usual to try providing my husband something."
"Oh! Another question," Scarlett interjected. "A coat is less stringent on measurements than other types of clothing, but do you have measurements for your husband on hand…?"
Joan smiled as she whipped out a rolled piece of parchment, handing it over and letting the younger woman unfurl it, looking at the scribbled ink measurements.
"Eldred gets fitted for a few suits a year," she explained to Scarlett. "It wasn't hard to copy the tailor's notes for my own benefit. He just got a suit tailored a week ago and the man doing the job was kind enough to keep it quiet."
As the two ate, the younger woman got out some parchment of her own and began to scribble notes. Donning her ruby red cloak once more, they readied to head out before it got too late, discussing details and ideas concerning what Joan wished to present to her husband.
In the end, it was agreed that Eldred would need something darker, sleeker, and professional, but still retaining a sense of elegance that elevated the man's appearance when in the company of investors and/or prospective clients.
That meant a trip to the other side of Stone Glades, to the Goods District. While the market for food was more centric for ease of access to the townsfolk, other such goods merchants needed to set up shop on the edge of town, in order to take in deliveries from providers and hunters around the town, as well as keep their more noisy practices localized and away from homes. Suffice it to say, a community of citizens didn't want to hear a carpenter, blacksmith, or some other such practice using large and loud tools, making their racket through the day and some nights.
Walking through the street, Scarlett led the pair towards the merchant for fabrics, the trip such a familiar one to her, that it was muscle memory at this point.
Contrary to the nature of the central shopping area, people weren't crowding the streets, since most that came this direction knew exactly what they needed and where to go to find it. Anyone in the street was basically hauling carts full of supplies recently bought or ready to sell, with any loitering parties discussing trade and budgets away from merchant's ears.
Considering the nature of the products being sold, hardly any of the merchants allowed their merchandise to be displayed out front, instead being shown off in the window.
The hooded girl opened the door to her go-to establishment, a small bell tinkling at their arrival.
There was already a few people inside, perusing the wares and inspecting bolts of fabric.
Scarlett and Joan joined the fray, with the younger woman taking close looks at everything. She cast a curious glance at her elder friend.
Joan smiled and sighed, "Don't hold back on my account. Lay it all out for me."
Clearing her throat, the short hooded girl chose to stop being indecisive, remarking, "Well, working based off my own inclinations is problematic because my ideas may not cater to your husband well. However, I can certainly work well from the 'practical' angle you mentioned about him earlier."
"Right," the older woman conceded, acknowledging the explanation, but not interrupting.
"My suggestion is dark wool," Scarlett explained. "If we find the right quality, it can look good, protect from the cold, and be easy to clean. Something navy blue or black would be ideal. A softer material on the inside would be good, but not below the waistline. Suffice it to say, a long coat does little more than deflect the cold wind below the waist."
"I am loving how into this you are," the older of the two remarked with a glowing smile.
The young woman blushed a bit, feeling a bit self conscious now, complement or not.
"I… just want to get it right," came her sincere reply.
"Well you grab what bolts you think you'll need and I'll pay," Joan continued, striding past Scarlett to look over some fabrics herself.
"Wait… what? Whole bolts? You know this shopkeep has bolts measuring around some twenty yards long on average?" the hooded girl fired off her questions, a panic seeping in at wondering if her friend truly realized how much that might cost.
"I'm well aware," the woman simply retorted, the coy grin still plastered to her face. "I prefer to overestimate the needs of this project, rather than overthink the price."
A sound, if not infuriatingly naive and wasteful logic. Scarlett knew she might need only a few yards of the wool, a couple more for liner on the inside, then maybe another yard for hemming, not to mention thread.
But… entire bolts of each different fabric she needed? That was too much. What would she do with the…
A thought suddenly occurred, although the smaller lady needed to be sure of something.
"What about the extra I have no need for?"
Joan appeared to be in thought, with Scarlett knowing full well she was feigning it, obviously having already had the answer well in advance.
"Why not use it for yourself?" the older of the two teased, making the younger sigh in mild exasperation.
"Fine," the red hooded girl relented, already knowing what she could do with the excess.
Without further mention for or against it, for potential fear of changing the outcome, Scarlett began gathering the materials she needed.
"Oh look, Letty!" Joan exclaimed mildly from the other side of the shop. "There's a leather and fur selection over here!" The smaller lady perked her head up from being neck deep in a wooden crate full of bolts, turning to notice the archway that linked the nextdoor leatherworker's shop to the fabric merchant's place.
It was something she was used to, having frequented the Goods District quite often. She quirked a brow, realizing Joan probably never cared to make the trip out here though. Either way, it was a mutually profitable arrangement for the two shops, with others doing similar things if they needed it.
One of the blacksmiths has a paved path to the back of the fur and skins shop to procure leather for armor. The carpenter across the street had a lock box outside for the fabric merchant to drop off orders of cloth to be used in upholstery and furniture. The glassmaker also worked with the carpenters of the street, as well as the apothecary coming to them often for jars, vials, and any other means to store their concoctions and poultices.
She loved that about this place. The crafters, no matter the trade, usually couldn't work in just their area alone. They needed supplies that they couldn't always make themselves. They coordinated and worked together, relying on each other and respecting one another.
As opposed to some of the neighborhoods, whispering rumors like poison, these merchants and crafters cared more about the work than what personal oddities their neighbor had.
"...and I see some beautiful wolf fur!" her friend resumed, ripping Scarlett from her distracted thoughts. "I'll bet that would do well as a lining to the collar. What do you think, Letty?"
With a few bolts of fabric already in hand, the hooded girl waddled awkwardly over to Joan, stunned into silence by the combination of those words. She'd never ruminated over such a thing longer than a second or two, but now the very thought of 'wolf fur' being sold felt wrong.
She quickly retreated to her mind to attempt some level of reasoning why not. The young woman knew there was completely valid and viable reasons against it that she considered, but now they just seemed to leave her entirely.
"It's… b-beautiful. Um… But…" she began to stutter, drawing a perked brow from her taller friend. Scarlett took in a slow breath and tried to regain her composure. "...It's… definitely something beautiful, however… it's something that can be a pain to clean. If he's going to wear it often, best to have something that won't degrade too fast."
"I've seen plenty of people wearing fur though," Joan offered in a curious rebuke, giving the hooded girl a chance to explain. "What would make it degrade?"
"You are right," Scarlett mentioned further, "though wearing it as a liner around the collar could cause oils from the skin to make it become matted and irritate him, as well as degrade the pelt. I actually found a cotton cloth bolt I could use as the inner liner."
"If you say so," the taller woman said cheerily, giving in rather easily. The younger lady was all too grateful that her friend took her explanation in stride. It wasn't a lie, as some pelts were more prone to damage from sweat and such from human wear. Those of wolves, coyotes, and rabbits were thin skinned, making her arguments sound.
Looking around to distract from her own awkwardness, Scarlett found a roll of leather she could use.
"Ha! This will work well though," she excitedly relayed to Joan, who tilted her head to look at the tag.
"Deerskin?"
"Yep! It'll be great to use for pockets," the red hooded girl detailed in short. "Thick, tough, and still flexible."
"Oh this is getting me so excited!" the older of the two cheered, clapping her hands together in a dainty manner. "I can't wait to see Eldred's face when you complete it. Do you think you have everything?"
"I think I'm about finished. Just need some threat and maybe a couple other supplies."
A few more minutes of looking around and gathering what was required ensued for the pair, before going to the respective owners and paying them in kind for their goods.
Seeing as the goods exceeded an amount of currency that any sensible person would carry on them, Joan gave them a payment in coin upfront, with a signed writ for the each of the crafters to take to her estate and collect on from any staff attending.
Turning to leave, with the shopkeep seeming very pleased at the recent sale, Scarlett slung the bundle on her back and was promptly knocked aside, stumbling but not falling.
"Watch where you are going!" a familiar gruff tone chastised her.
Rising by instinct to unleash a veritable barrage of verbal abuse at the source of the voice, the hooded girl froze upon realizing it was Glenn.
Biting her tongue, she turned to shuffle out, murmuring a faux apology to keep him from focusing on her for too long.
From a backwards glance, and some eavesdropping, she witnessed him slam a tied up bundle of pelts on the table.
Joan was already waiting outside, giving her a minute to listen in.
"Here's my delivery for the week," the man grumbled. The shopkeep crossed his arms and stared, almost uninterested… or disappointed.
"Come on, Glenn… where's the other three you promised?"
"I've been busy, Ok?" Glenn remarked, turning away to give a customer next to him a dirty glare.
The merchant sighed, "Still having a one-sided row with that 'beast' of yours?"
The hunter's fist slammed the counter, with the crafter looking unimpressed, likely having seen the much larger man do this before.
"It's out there… I've seen it."
"Yeah yeah… and ever since you saw it, you've also seen fit to drag those who supply me on a damn crusade for the thing," the shopkeep griped, jabbing a finger into Glenn's chest. "That was nearly two weeks worth of product you kept out of my shops. If I didn't have a good inventory, I might have been in real trouble, as would much of the town."
At that, the crafter dropped a few silver pieces on the counter and gestured to them.
"That's it?" the hunter growled low, anger seeping from him once more. "This bundle should grab thrice that!"
"AS I SAID, you lummox…" seethed the crafter, eyes burning with a fire that could rival the smith's forge at that moment, "...You are the direct cause of this town suffering a supply loss. I could easily tell you to screw off, so take what I'm giving you graciously and start doing your job. If you want full pay, give me the full quota you promised. Simple as that."
Whether he figured it was useless to argue, or was too angry to stand it any longer, Glenn smacked a large hand on top the coins and dragged them from the counter, grumbling as he turned and stomped out.
Scarlett turned and kept her hood up, with the hunter giving the red hood a flickering glance.
It felt familiar to him, with faded memories trying to resurface. Wanting to address it, he turned to look back in the direction of the one wearing it…
...only to see that whoever it was had gone.
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Scarlett and Joan walked briskly back to the former's cottage, her heart pounding from the close encounter.
When he passed her and she heard him stop, she bolted to the opening and exited from the fabric shop door, rejoining her friend and taking off her cloak to avoid him picking her out in the street.
Maybe it was nothing, but she didn't want him to suddenly grasp at any reason to suspect her.
Sure… she could potentially avoid this problem by never wearing her red cloak again, but she spent a lot of time making it. She loved it. Besides that, it was a showcase of her skill and craft to those who noticed.
"I'll come back in a week's time to check up on you," Joan told her, the older woman getting ready to leave as the sunset scorched the sky.
"Sounds great! I should be able to finish everything in two to three weeks, if all goes well," Scarlett assured.
"I look forward to seeing it finished, as well as giving it to my husband." The taller of them then began fishing in her coat for something, pulling out a small pouch. "Here's an advance. It should help you pay for anything we forgot, or supplement your living expenses. And I'll make sure to give credit where it's due."
"Thanks, Joan," the hooded girl breathed. "I really appreciate this."
She nodded and took her leave, letting the younger succumb to tired legs and some leftover nerves from before.
"I wonder if it's wrong for me to feel like today was both nice and awful," she groaned in lamentation, Joan having left and well out of earshot, nevermind out of sight.
Her stomach growled loudly in the quiet and empty house.
"Hush, you," Scarlett chided her own belly. It grumbled once more in rebellion. "Fine… bread it is."
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A couple hundred feet away, blue/amber eyes honed in on the smaller woman as the taller one left. Nearly thirty feet up high in a tree, taking a bite out of a green apple, Fen looked on with mixed feelings.
Gram kept him behind to chastise his decision to bring her to his wolf family, denoting his behavior as stupid and foolish. He definitely felt the sting of her words… as well as that of her wooden spoon upon his head… several times.
Rubbing the spot, he winched in mild pain at the memory.
Regardless, the elder woman was certainly glad that they came to terms with parts of the past and laid it all out.
I've got enough secrets to keep for myself without worrying over keeping yours for you, she had complained loudly to his sensitive ears.
It made him wonder what secrets she had to keep. Maybe it was a means to make her point sink in, but the wolf boy noticed her look as she said it. There was a pain behind her eyes that seemed… guilty?
He huffed and bit into the apple again, licking a sweet dribble of juice from the apple off his wrist.
It also begged another question, when he thought about it.
Gram mentioned they could hide in the chamber under her cabin floor. As long as he either lived in or visited her woodland cabin, she always told him to stay out of it. They ended up in a closet to 'snog', whatever that meant, so it was sort of a moot point, but he couldn't help but wonder about it.
Thankfully, anytime she came up from that chamber, a series of smells would usually waft up. With his exceptional sense of smell, he could at least guess that it was where she did her alchemical endeavors.
It wasn't as if he believed Gram had unspeakable horrors as secrets, but her look still bothered him.
Sitting around as the sun set and all of its light with it, he looked up to notice the moon approaching full. A few more nights and it would be as much.
He loved it. The sight, as well as the glow it cast upon the Earth. It felt invigorating and seemed to give everything a vibrance.
...well… except the human towns. He couldn't place why, but humans and their creations seemed void of this vibrance in the pale moonlight. Even when he closed his eyes, he could somehow feel it, like a cold spot in a warm room.
Seeing Scarlett eventually wrap herself up and get settled in on the chair near her hearth, Fen decided it was time to leave her be and let her rest, turning to leap from his high up position to the nearest tree.
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He was in a conundrum and found only one solution could clear his mind well enough to forget those worries.
Drinking.
Glenn downed the third tankard of ale that night and slammed the empty cup on the thick wooden counter.
"One more, Barkeep!" he bellowed with fervor.
A tall and gangly gentleman pulled out a large pitcher and filled the tankard generously.
"You running up a tab or going to pay me?" the bartender asked with a small sliver of malice to his tone.
"Tab," the larger man belted out. "Had a low turnout for furs this week. I'll pay you next."
"Fine, but I need to be paid in a fortnight, otherwise I can't properly pay my supplier for more product. You don't pay up, I cut you off."
"Yeah yeah…" Glenn sighed in a low tone.
Two more men found a seat next to him, engaged in conversation already and continuing as they sat down.
"... the nerve to take my daughter into the woods at night!" one of them griped.
"All those predators in the woods on the hunt. You're kidding?" the other replied.
The first one frowned and huffed, "I meant he disrespected me by doing so… but yeah, that too I guess. Not to mention if a hunter got them, thinking they were something else."
"Don't get me started on that!" the second man grumbled. A tankard was offered to the two, with each giving the barkeep a few coins.
The former man turned and sipped his drink, smiling as he gestured and spoke, "Oh, no. Please… get started on that. I've belly ached enough for a couple of drunk bastards… and we haven't even gotten drunk yet. Your turn."
The latter let out a guffaw of laughter and wiped away a tear as he explained, "Went out hunting near the bluffs to the north. Soft dirt and lots of burrowing animals with good pelts. Anyways, two idiot youngsters come from that bluff with the really gnarled looking tree and are giggling like mad. I was all hunkered down and ready for a long wait. Almost shot them with my crossbow. Not to mention they probably scared off anything for me to hunt."
"Huh… well that's terrible," the first man agreed after another heavy swig of ale. "Know who they were?"
"Nah… the boy was no one I'd seen, but the young woman had a red cloak I could probably pick out if I saw it again."
The rest of their conversation was lost to Glenn as he seemed to focus on some hazy memories.
Red cloak.
He saw a girl at the Goods District wearing that. And he was very sure he'd seen that before.
With another heavy draw on his mug of ale, he nearly choked as something clicked. He vaguely recalled a girl wearing a red flowing cloak when he first found that beast in the woods.
He was definitely drunk and never quite remembered the whole thing, but he could now recall a few key details, sparked by that man's story. There was a girl in a red hood that he approached, then being lifted and pulled away by something very strong. Then… he never saw the face of the other entity there, but the silhouette was similar to that when he first saw the beast turn from one form to another.
Glenn then made a mental note of the hunter's story.
A bluff with a gnarly tree. He knew the area, but couldn't outright remember something fitting that.
Downing his drink, the large hunter left the empty tankard and quickly stomped from the pub, a newfound flame in his chest creating a new resolve to find his beast.
I would give you all a lengthy and potentially idiotic afterword spiel... but honestly, my brain is a dry noodle right now.
So... I will only say i'm already pretty well into working on my next chapters for all my current stories and hope to complete them soon.
Until next time, It's been a hustle, Sweethearts!