A/N; I wanted to add this to the last update, but forgot until too late. InYuJi didn't do another fanart for me, but she did a super cute piece of both Baron and Puss in Boots that I just have to let people know about. Hint; the kitty face is involved.
inyuji. deviantart. com gallery/ #/ d5m8xng
Copy + Paste x Delete Spaces = Happiness!
ooOoo
Chapter Four: A Spotless Future
Whatever your past has been, you have a spotless future.
-Anonymous
xxXxx
'If I had been allowed to be Haru, would it have taken so long for me to learn how to sew correctly?'
Wondering if her face had indeed turned to stone, the pale girl dressed in the privacy of her little cave for the last time. She tightened the bandages over her chest, and then tied on two undershirts since the bearskin cloak didn't allow the kind of shirts one could slip over their head. She pulled on the slightly stiffer over shirt and tied that closed as well in a diagonal over her chest.
Two pairs of pants to combat the cold as well as thick woolen socks before her snow boots. She tucked her usual gloves into her plain white belt to keep them out of the way as she neatly rolled the rest of her clothing into tiny bundles before slipping them into a plain white bag.
She didn't have many clothes that still fit her, so the chore didn't take long at all. But since she didn't want to leave just yet, the cursed young woman sat on the stone slab that had served her for a bed for the past five years, and looked around her personal little cave.
It was a little farther down the hallway than her father would have liked, but even if she was pretending to be a boy, the pale one needed her own space as she grew older. Now that her clothes were packed away, only a small rug and the curtain across the entrance told that anyone had lived in here.
She felt a pang in her heart, feeling already as if this place was no longer home for her. "I want my name back," she whispered, reminding herself why she was abandoning everything she had ever known for the wilderness of the southern kingdoms.
Her stomach heaved uncertainly, making her glad that she hadn't eaten yet. The pale young woman sighed and made herself stand up from the slab. With difficulty, her feet left her little cave and trudged down the familiar stone path to the main cave.
Her father was awake by the time she slipped past the worn curtain, making porridge for breakfast. He looked up at her approach and managed a weak smile. "There's a bit of honey we could eat with this."
"Sounds delicious," she grunted softly, moving on silent feet to circle the cave. Her favorite traps were slipped into the bag, as well as a few daggers, an axe, and her trusty sling shot.
The last item was perfect for catching a rabbit or small animal for a quick evening meal. She never considered leaving the cave without it. Taking another bag, she helped herself to some of the meat in the small cave, as well as two water skins and the extra bottles of herbs she had gotten on her last trip to town.
Tasho knew what she was planning, she was certain of it. When she kept requesting things like a small cooking pot for travel, a tarp just big enough to use as a tent, and even a compass instead of the usual clothes and food, the old shop keeper was grinning from ear to ear.
The cursed young woman doubted that he would be able to keep from spreading the news to the other villagers. Even if most of them had been indifferent to her, she knew that her regular sparring partners would be glad to see the last of her.
"… Must you leave today?" her father asked wistfully. "After all, you turn seventeen in two weeks. You don't want to be alone for your birthday, do you?"
"I want my name back, sir. I want my future back." 'I want to call you Papa without getting scolded for it. I want you to proudly call me your daughter.'
Her father gave her a mournful look, but motioned for her to stop packing to come eat on the simple mats close to the fire pit. For the last time, Haru chewed through his slightly lumpy porridge and burnt bread, trying to avoid looking at him.
She didn't want to leave her father. If he got into an accident in the caves or out hunting, no one would come to his rescue if she was gone. The sooner she left, the sooner the temptation to stay would leave her. She numbly finished her meal and stood up in order to do the dishes as usual.
"Stop, Ha-ech!" he gasped, almost falling to the floor to stop her.
"Why do you keep doing that?" she sighed, helping him back to a sitting position. "You know it's forbidden."
"B-Because, I want to say it again," he panted, once he got his breath back. "I'll keep trying, every day you're gone."
"Don't waste your breath. It would make more sense to try once every few months."
"Every day," he repeated stubbornly. "I want to know as soon as possible when you're freed."
"What about every few weeks?" she tried to coax, but he shook his head.
"You're still my child. I deserve to know if you're all right."
She looked away, towards the flames as she set aside the morning dishes. "I wonder if you'll be able to say it if I die instead."
"Don't even think that! If you invite doubt, you invite disaster!"
"I know. You've told me," she sighed, accepting the fierce hug from him with closed eyes.
That was another thing she hated about being cursed. She had to be careful about the way she hugged her father, if she wanted him to stay in one piece.
"… Before you leave, you need a few more things," he managed to say, after several minutes of hugging.
"I'm pretty sure that this makes everything I need, sir."
He winced from the name, but made her sit down as he got up. "There are a few more things I'd like you to take. They won't take much room."
She nodded curiously, watching him move around the cave until fishing something out from a crevice in the wall. If she remembered correctly, it was the same one she had crawled into, after her father had told her to leave him when her mother was burning.
Or, at least that was what she thought he said. She had been too wild with grief to be coherent at the time.
"When… when your mother and I eloped, she wasn't able to take a lot with her," Hasho said carefully, sitting down next to her with her mother's sewing bag in one hand. "You knew how she didn't like you to look in here, didn't you?"
"She got pretty angry the one time I tried to sneak a peak," she admitted as she studied her mother's bag.
It was a bit more threadbare than she remembered. Maybe her reluctance in sewing stemmed from memories of her mother by the fire pit, humming softly as a needle danced in her hands.
Her heart throbbed painfully at the memory.
"… I need you to understand that no one needs to see what's in here," her father nearly stammered as he handed her a plain, empty sack. "They are your inheritance, but they're very valuable. Thieves would love to take them off your hands."
"I understand," the cursed young woman promised, setting the sack across her lap.
It didn't turn white, since that only happened to items she wore.
"The first is something you've seen before; your mother's scissors," her father began hesitantly, pulling out the familiar trinket. "They're silver, and engraved rather prettily. It would be best if you only used them for hair trimmings and such, when you're alone."
"A knife works just as well," she reminded him as she took the scissors to look at them carefully.
The girl didn't remember this, but now that she was looking at them, there were clever markings that made the scissors look like a bird of some sort. She ran her fingers over the feather marks once before slipping the trinket into the small sack.
"The next is a silver thimble to match the scissors, but I doubt you'll use it much," he admitted, using a finger to offer the next item.
She plucked it off the digit to study it as well. She could barely remember her mother using it, but from all the hard work her hands had gone through, she wouldn't need this either. She put it into the sack without a comment.
"Then there's the comb. Again, only use when you're absolutely sure you're alone," he admonished her while handing it over. He opened his mouth to say more, but then decided not to.
His daughter carefully turned the treasured heirloom over and around in her hands. How many times had she watched her mother use this on her long autumn-colored hair, and feel its teeth run through her own hair?
A wooden one her father had made her was what she used since her father decided to train her as a boy. That would be the one she would still use; her mother's comb would only be for remembering by. She slipped that into the bag as well.
"There's also the small fold-up mirror you've used for practicing facial expressions, a ruby necklace that belonged to your grandmother, as well as a matching bracelet."
"… Just what was Mama before she married you?" she demanded as she inspected the beautifully intricate necklace, which had several small red stones held together by tiny golden chains. "Not even Machida's family has such things."
He looked at her gravely. "She was the daughter of a prosperous merchant in one of the southern kingdoms. Her father wanted her to marry someone she didn't care for. I helped her escape, and after some months on the run, we fell in love and got married. Her father had many connections with the law, so we never stopped fearing that we would be discovered one day."
She stared at him in shock. "That's why Mama and I never left the cave?"
"Among other things. You are now well aware of what sort of things live up here."
She nodded and slipped the jewelry into the small sack. "Is that everything?"
"Save for your mother's bag. Would you mind terribly if I kept it?" he asked worriedly, holding it against his chest. One of the worn and faded straps fell against his cheek as he did so.
"No, go ahead and keep it," she encouraged him as she sifted around the bag holding her clothes. "The things I didn't need are still in the other cave."
"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm… sorry that…"
"It needed to be this way?" she finished sadly.
"Yes. Can you forgive me?"
She wheeled around incredulously. "For what?"
"For not being able to protect you. For making you be a boy. I know you never wanted to be one."
She gave him a sad, loving smile. "It was the only way. If the southerners are anything like the villagers, they would never take a female trapper seriously. A cursed one, maybe, but not a female one."
"They'd sooner die," he agreed solemnly as he stood up again. "Let me walk you to the cave's mouth?"
She nodded wordlessly and pulled on her gloves before shouldering both of the heavy sacks.
The silence between them was unsteady, as they walked down the hallway for the last time together. She used the time to think of the right words to use, to convey everything she was feeling, but nothing she thought of would be enough to conceal her true gender.
Just before reaching the mouth, she decided to indulge herself, just this once. She dropped the large bags, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him as tight as she dared.
"I love you, Papa," she whispered lovingly in her true voice. "One day I'll be your daughter again; you'll see."
Her father had to have been going through a similar breakdown, because he did not scold her for her lapse. Instead he hugged her back and struggled to talk without crying. "I love you too, sweetheart. I look forward to saying your name again."
She gave him a tearful smile, and kissed his cheek once before drying her eyes against her bearskin cloak and grabbing her bags again.
Knowing that she and her father could spend hours with their goodbyes, she took off running as soon as snow crunched beneath her feet.
"Come back someday!" her father called after her, suppressing a sob as his voice faded behind her.
She didn't dare look behind her. She would start crying again if she did that and she didn't want tears freezing onto her face as they had done after she said goodbye to Machida.
Machida… he had just proposed to Sakura when she was finally able to sew a straight and even seam. Perhaps knowing the fuss he'd make to ensure her attendance to the wedding had helped give her the extra incentive to fulfill the last of her training.
'No, don't think of him! Even if I'd have had a chance as Haru, it's over now. He's made his choice, and it isn't me.'
She had been foolish to think that she ever had a chance. The village had not accepted her at all, and even if she still had to leave, it would have been unfair to ask someone like Machida to wait for her to find a cure.
After all, she was just a cursed trapper. What could someone like her have to offer a future mayor? Although leadership of the town wasn't passed down through a family, she couldn't imagine anyone else filling his father's shoes in time.
Hours must have passed before she finally slowed to a halt. She collapsed against a snow bank, gasping for breath as her legs gave out. The young woman had never run for so long before, even during her first trip to the village. She looked up and around her for familiar landmarks, but she was now far beyond the territory she had hunted with her father.
For the first time in her life, she didn't know where she was, and there probably wasn't another soul for miles. It was a lonelier feeling than she thought it was going to be.
"I'd better get used to it," she grumbled to herself, feeling around for one of the small bags attached to her belt. Once she found the one she wanted, she pulled out her new compass to get her bearings.
She had been heading east, almost northeast. She turned a bit, watching as the little needle moved around inside the glass.
Southeast. Sure, why not?
She tucked the compass away for now and resumed her journey at a more regular pace.
A sudden caw caught her attention. She looked up to see a crow flying over her head, its black feathers rustling slightly in the cold wind. It kept circling over her head, cawing time and again.
The polar woman gave it an annoyed look. "I'm not that interesting, go away," she called up to it before breaking into a run. Who knew how far away the lands of grass were from where she was? What sort of things awaited her there?
… Would grass crunch under her feet the way snow did? The few pictures she had seen in the books her parents had given her made grass look like green snow, but if it grew from the ground, how could it be powdery like snow?
At least the crow had left her alone. They were said to bring bad luck, and although she wasn't superstitious, she didn't want to take unnecessary chances with her quest. She kept running, only pausing to rest when the sun was about an hour from setting. There were a number of dark clouds overhead, so instead of using the tarp, she immediately started burrowing into a large snow dune, using her bearskin cloak to pound and pound on the snow until she had a hole big enough for herself and her two bags of provisions.
Since it was foolish to light a fire inside a snow cave, she set out her partially folded tarp for a place to lie down. She nibbled on a bit of rabbit jerky as the sun fell and the wind began to pick up. Snow began flying through the mouth of her little sanctuary, making her wrap her bearskin cloak tighter around her body.
She knew she should be resting, but she felt too numb to sleep. Crying might be more appropriate, since she wasn't certain if she would ever see her beloved father again, but she knew better than to let herself cry. Once she started, it became almost impossible for her to stop. She kept staring into the whirling storm, her mind as blank as the snow around her.
She leaned against the firmly packed wall and tried to think about sleep. Who knew how many weeks of walking she had before leaving the Northern Lands?
Suddenly, a sharp cry was heard over the howling wind. The young woman sat up straight with wide eyes. She looked deeper into the swirling snow, trying to determine if the sound had been her imagination.
"What would someone else be doing all the way out here?" she asked aloud, looking around to ensure that she would be able to find her makeshift cave again. She crawled out, letting the harsh wind slap icy snowflakes against her skin as she pulled the hood over her head.
"Is someone out there?" she called as loud as she could, fighting to keep her balance against the wind.
"He-Help!" an old voice managed to rasp out.
Experienced with how the northern storms sometimes threw voices, the girl kept calling out, slowly working her way closer to the voice.
After a few minutes, she tripped over a leg, getting a face full of snow before climbing to her knees.
An old woman, wrapped in multiple layers of dark grey, cried out from the pain.
"Sorry about that. It's hard to see in this kind of weather," the girl informed her as she brushed some of the snow from the woman's legs and picked her up as gently as possible.
"Aye, 'tis always hard for me to see, lassie."
The young trapper cocked her head, having never heard that word before, or that accent. But now was not the time to ask about such things.
"Please don't worry about a thing, I'm a friend," she reassured the old woman as she began making careful steps back to her hideaway.
The old woman sighed with relief, putting her frozen arms around the girl's neck. "You're a young'in, aren't you?"
"I will be seventeen soon, yes," she admitted, being careful with her footing. "We're almost there, don't worry."
"Oh no. I'm not worried anymore," the old woman sighed as the younger one got to her knees and carried her into the small enclosure.
It'd be a bit cramped with two bodies, but there was no way in heck that she'd leave another human being to freeze to death. "Sorry that it's so small, I wasn't expecting to see anyone out here." She gently laid down the old woman over her tarp and pulled her cloak over in a way to cover both of them.
As she did so, she looked deep into the woman's eyes for the first time. They were sort of milky and seemed to stare past her.
"Is something wrong, lassie?" she asked curiously, after perhaps a moment of silence.
"I don't know. I've never seen eyes like yours before."
The old woman laughed. "These old eyes of mine haven't seen anything in a long time. Don't let them bother you."
The young girl looked at her a bit longer, but adjusted her cape again.
Once they were both under her cloak, the young woman first gave a warm embrace to share her body heat, and then began massaging the old woman's hands and back. She'd have done the same for the woman's feet, but that would have left her upper body without the cloak, and she was too cold for the girl to even consider leaving her partially exposed to the elements.
"Don't worry, you're going to be fine," she encouraged the woman, who sighed in gratitude.
"What a kind lassie you are. No stranger's ever shown me such kindness before."
The young woman stiffened angrily before giving her another warm hug. "Then it was long overdue. Were you lost?"
"Oh no, I know exactly where I was. But I wasn't expecting the storm to come up."
The one wearing the cloak smiled gently, since it wouldn't betray her for once. "It's been building for an hour. I'm impressed that you got so close to my shelter before collapsing."
The blind woman smiled at her a little crookedly. "These old bones are tougher than they look. I'll be fine in a few hours."
The girl bit her lip worriedly. The woman literally looked as fragile as a paper doll. Even her mother had seemed healthier than she, but had suffered much less exposure than this woman. "The storm probably won't blow over until morning, but I don't mind sharing my makeshift cave until then. I have some water, if you're thirsty."
"That sounds lovely, dear," the woman said enthusiastically, making the younger one reach into one of her bags with difficulty and pull out a water skin. Her hands were so frail, that the young girl needed to help her drink as well, keeping one hand on her back for support.
"I have some rabbit jerky, if you're hungry."
"Thank ye, lassie, but my teeth can't handle jerky."
She gave the woman another hug as their body temperatures began to even out. "What does that word mean, lassie?"
"It means young lady, of course."
The trapper froze in horror. "I'm a boy-er, a man."
The old woman laughed, almost like a cawing sound. "I may be blind, lass, but I know a lady when I meet one. Thank you for helping me, by the way."
"I'm a man," she insisted.
"Now stop that. It's been a long day and I'm not up to arguing when I know I'm right. Please, can we just sleep?" the older woman begged tiredly.
"… Yes," the trapper almost whispered, wrapping her arms around the woman. "But please don't tell anyone I'm a girl. It's kind of important that no one knows."
"I don't even know your name, child! How can I tell anyone what you are if I don't know who you are, or what you look like?"
"… Good point," she couldn't help but laugh in her true voice, holding the old woman closer. "Sweet dreams."
"Sweet dreams, lassie."
ooOoo
"… Mother? Mother, please answer me!" a voice called out, close enough to force the trapper to wake up.
"Is… someone out there?" she called out around a yawn, looking out the opening of her little cave. It was partially snowed in, but a few good kicks opened it up again.
"Oh, is someone over there? Have you seen an old woman?" a masculine voice asked worriedly.
"You watch who you're calling old, boy!" the blind woman snapped at him, waking in an instant.
"Your son, I'm guessing?" the trapper asked, remembering to stick to the masculine voice as she carefully helped her companion out of the snow cave.
"Aye, that's him. Where are you, boy?" she snapped in irritation.
"I'm over here, Mother," a middle-aged man said with relief as he pushed through the snow to greet them. But he stopped cold in his tracks when he got a good look at the trapper. His eyes were as black as his mother's were grey, and filling with shock.
She looked at him calmly, daring him to say anything about her appearance. "Would you like me to help you to him? He seems reluctant to come any closer."
"I'm not surprised. What were you thinking, leaving me behind?" the older woman demanded of her son. "If it weren't for this trapper, I'd have died last night! Hey, help me closer to him so I can whack the boy!"
Fighting back an evil grin, the younger woman did as she requested, lifting her completely over one snow drift to place her where it was closer to the ground. "He's over this way."
"M-Mother, let's not be hasty," the man pleaded, still staring at the girl with wild eyes as he tripped on a snow bank.
"It's sheer luck that I heard her last night," the trapper informed him in a humorless tone, carefully setting the woman next to him.
As soon as the blind woman was certain where her son was, she gave him a good whack upside the head. "This is for leaving without me! This is for not talking to Michael before leaving! This is for not looking in the wagon to see if I was there!"
With each thing she listed, she gave the man another blow to his head or shoulder, making him attempt to deflect the blows while crawling away from her in the snow.
"I'm sorry, Mother! Michael was taking a nap when we decided to move on, so I was sure you were in the wagon!"
"You're a merchant," the trapper realized. Perhaps this was the one she had to thank for the dried spices in one of her bags.
"Ye-ouch! That's right," the man confirmed as he got yet another blow. "Thank- ouch! For… helping my mother?" He seemed dubious by now whether or not he was indebted to her.
"My pleasure, but please be more careful with her in the future," she informed him through a stiff smile, turning to unbury her two bags.
"Son, do we have anything to thank him with?" the woman asked, thankfully sticking to her promise to keep quiet about the trapper's gender.
"I didn't bring much, Mother. Just Apple so that I could try finding your… well, you," the man said, nervously gesturing at the brown horse that was a fair distance from them.
The horse was moving nervously from side to side, looking at the trapper with wide nervous eyes.
She bit back a wave of melancholy, since animals had never liked her. She didn't know if it was because of her curse or because of something she personally was, but no animal was willing to come anywhere near her.
Such a detail had certainly livened up her training as a trapper, but at least she knew how to get around their disdain to ply her trade.
"Thank you all the same, but I need to get going and I'm sure that-"
"Nonsense! I owe you my life and I refuse to let you leave without giving you something in return. Wait, did you say Apple's with you?"
"Yes, Mother," the man said weakly, rubbing at his head and shoulders sorely.
"Then I think there's something suitable. Come here, my little dumpling," she cooed at the horse, which neighed in response but didn't come closer. "What's wrong, my little one?"
"I'm too close," the trapper mumbled self-consciously, taking several steps back before retrieving her things.
"Oh don't be silly, my Apple likes everybody. Come here, you silly little thing," the woman lovingly scolded the horse, who was neighed happily and trotted over of her, although it seemed to keep an eye on the girl.
"Actually, Mother, I think he has a point because-"
"Oh, hush!" she snapped as she climbed to her feet and began feeling around the horse's packs. "What is your problem anyway, boy?"
"… Are you aware that the one who rescued you is an albino?"
The trapper cocked her head in confusion. She had never heard that word before, either.
"So what if he is? Doesn't make a bit of difference to- ah, here it is!" she crowed triumphantly, pulling something brown and flimsy from one of the saddle bags. "Give this to him, son."
"Are you sure about this, Mother? That's your lucky satchel," he reminded her, still giving the girl a nervous look.
"I know, and this gentleman deserves some luck, I'm thinking. Give it to him," she commanded like a leader.
It was hard for her to fight back a smile as the man hesitantly approached her with the offering. But he kept staring as she accepted the satchel. "Hold on, you can't be an albino; your eyes are black!"
"Will you behave yourself?" his mother snapped at him as the trapper looked at the satchel.
It was well-worn, a plain brown bag with a buckle for the top flap. But it also had another buckle for the strap, which meant that she could put it on under her cloak.
"This looks like it will be very useful. Thank you, madam."
"My pleasure, sir. Oh, and don't be fooled by its looks, it'll hold more than you think. Well, come on, son! The entire caravan is probably waiting for us!"
"As you wish, Mother. … Thank you again, stranger," the man said uncomfortably as he helped his mother onto the horse.
"You're welcome, but don't forget to check for her again," she warned him, folding up the satchel before retrieving her things from the partially collapsed cave.
The last thing she wanted was to put on the satchel and have it fade to white in front of the man.
"Oh, and one more thing, good trapper?" the old woman called out before her son led the relieved horse away. "If you're hoping for warmer weather, head directly south!"
"I'll do that, and thank you!" the cursed girl called back in a gruff voice. She extracted her two bags from the snow, stuffed the satchel into the one with her clothes, and resumed her march after getting her bearings.
After a few moments, she heard a familiar caw. She looked up to see that the crow had resumed circling over her head. "Oh, for crying out loud! I'm not that interesting!" she snapped at the bird before running at top speed.
But something was wrong this time. One bag or another was constantly bumping against her body in an awkward way, which threw off her balance for running. Weight wasn't an issue; it was almost never an issue for her. It was just the bulkiness that was getting to her.
"Can one little bag make that much of a difference?" she sighed in defeat, slowing to a halt. She pulled the satchel out and looked at it.
It flopped over her hand, almost mocking her for thinking that it was the problem. She gave a good look around to ensure that she was alone save for the stupid crow and buckled the bag over her shoulder, but under her cloak.
It wasted no time losing it's color like the rest of her. Just to help out with the burden, she decided to put in her water skins.
But as soon as she let go of the first one, the weight of it disappeared from the satchel. She gasped in surprise and opened it up. The water skin was gone. There was absolutely nothing in the bag.
"No," she whispered, since she needed the skin if not the water within. She thrust her hand into it desperately… and grabbed the water skin by the narrow end.
She blinked twice and pulled it out to inspect it. "What is this thing?" she asked aloud while staring at the satchel in disbelief.
The old woman had said not to be fooled by its looks.
Hesitantly, the young woman put both of the water skins into the satchel and looked into it. There was no trace of either of them.
She had also said that the satchel was able to hold more than she thought. But how much more?
The trapper wasted no time opening one of her bags to slowly move things into the satchel. But no matter how much she loaded into it, it still looked and felt like it was empty. Both of her traveling bags had been large, large enough to hide children in, but by the time she was done transferring her belongings, even the empty bags had been stuffed into the satchel.
"Maybe I should have tried this before putting in everything," the girl fretted, sticking her hand for her small cooking pot. Her hand immediately found it, but nothing else. She tried this for a variety of her supplies before being satisfied that she could retrieve whatever she wanted, just by wanting it.
The cursed trapper looked behind her, only to notice that the crow had been watching her from a nearby rock, cocking its' head at her slightly. But by now, she could barely care about being followed by the bird. "I'll probably have to be careful with using this thing when people are around, eh?" she asked with a nervous laugh as she put everything back into the satchel.
The crow cawed at her, almost like an agreement.
The cursed teenager stood up, and took out her compass to locate south. Then she put it back into one of the little bags that was tied to her belt and began running as fast as she could.
She had never run so fast without luggage before. It was just her, and endless miles of snow between her and the southern lands. It was an exhilarating feeling… but also terrifying. There was no telling what she was going to find down there, or if she would even survive it. For all she knew, the people in the southern kingdoms were even colder than the villagers.
'I want to be Haru again. I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I want to find out who I am without this stupid cloak. Mama, I hope you're watching over me, because I don't want to face this alone.'
Plus she didn't want the crow to be her only companion. It gave her the creeps.