Chapter Nine: Inner Guidance
Every time you don't follow your inner guidance, you feel a loss of energy, loss of power, a sense of spiritual deadness.
-Shakti Gawain
xxXxx
Dear Bearskin,
I am hoping that at least one of the letters I have written reaches you. If this is the one, then may I first express gratitude that you have chosen to read it? I understand you are usually quite busy and it's possible that you don't have time to bother with correspondence from a stranger.
Contrary to what you are probably thinking at this point, I am not in need of your services. To be honest, I almost wish I did need your help, so that I would have a valid reason to go through all this trouble. You see, I have been keeping track of your deeds over the past three years and I can't help but notice that - despite the talk I have heard from many sources - there are many gross inaccuracies between them and I would prefer to have my facts straight.
I know this seems like a shallow reason to go to such lengths to make your acquaintance, but ever since learning of you, I can't shake the feeling that I must meet you in person. I don't know why I've had this feeling for so long, but I have learned not to ignore such impulses.
I also have the understanding that you are searching for a cure for your unique condition. While I do not claim to be an expert on curses, I would like very much to help you find a cure. I am good friends with a magician of certain talent and he may have some ideas on how to help you. I sincerely hope you will consider stopping by the manor, even if it's to say you don't need my help. I have ensured that every inn between here and my manor has already been paid for their best room and board for you; all you have to do is appear and they will take care of the rest.
All the best,
Baron Humbert von Gikkingen
ooOoo
This was unheard of. Someone was reaching out to her… without actually needing her? Even the part about wanting his facts straight felt like an excuse; he just wanted to meet her.
Bearskin couldn't take her mind off it, even as she walked down the street and let herself into the first inn she saw. The horses outside it made a ruckus at her approach as usual, but she was too distracted to worry about them for now.
"Oh, Bearskin!" one portly man exclaimed with a wide smile, struggling to get out from behind a counter after she came in. "We were hoping to see you soon!"
"So I read. … Just out of curiosity, have you ever met the Baron of Piaal?" she couldn't help but ask gruffly. For all she knew, it was an elaborate trap from an enemy.
No one did as many errands as she without gaining some enemies.
"No, not me. One of my second cousins works for him, though. Says he's never had a better employer. May I show you to your room?" the man asked with a respectful bow. "It will still be about two hours until supper and I'm certain you would like to rest a bit."
"That does sound nice," Bearskin admitted as she followed the man down a hallway and up a set of stairs. But it was hard to pay attention, as the innkeeper gave her instructions to get to the main hall and the bath house, should she need it.
The trapper doubted it. Even if she went during the middle of the night, there was no guarantee that she'd be alone long enough to keep her secret.
"… I think you'll be particularly pleased with the bed. All the ones we have were shipped directly from the capital only last month, and no customer's been able to keep awake on one."
"Sounds wonderful, sir. Thank you," she replied in a gruff voice as he opened a door at the end of a long hallway. She peeked in experimentally, but stiffened a bit.
"Is something wrong, Bearskin?" the man asked worriedly.
"… Animals don't like me, sir."
He looked in as well and flinched a bit. "Blast that cat! Sorry, Bearskin, but my daughter's pet loves the new beds as much as the customers do. Hey, Fluffy," the man said as he stepped into the room and marched to the bed to pick up the cat. "You're not a customer, remember? Why can't you ever nap on Sarah's bed, like a good cat? She's got the same kind of bed, remember?"
The pale woman couldn't help but look at the feline longingly. She remembered her childhood wish to hear a purr, but still had yet to hear it. What was a cat's fur like?
The overly fluffy creature opened its eyes and stared at her. What issued from the cat's mouth could only be called a scream as it hopped out of the innkeeper's arms to pin itself against the farthest corner of the room. Every hair of the cat was standing on end as it spit fearfully.
"What on earth is wrong with you?" the man demanded, but the trapper already knew what to do.
She also came into the room and started slowly side-stepping her way across one wall to keep as much distance between her and the nervous animal. As soon as the trapper was a good distance from the door, the little cat shot through it like an arrow.
"I don't think you'll have to worry about Fluffy coming anywhere close to this room until after I leave," Bearskin informed the innkeeper with a sad smile. "Or even go up the stairs. Animals like to keep their distance from me."
"… I can see that," he managed to say after several minutes. "But if they hate you so, how do you trap them?"
"By being tricky or fast, usually. It helps that I don't need to hunt as much as I used to," the cursed woman admitted with reluctance.
Some of her errands were less pleasant than others, but having to do less trapping was definitely a benefit in her eyes.
"Ah. I'll… let you rest, then," the man said as he bowed his way out of the room. "I hope you'll enjoy this room as much as Fluffy did."
"I'm certain I will. Thank you," Bearskin said as he closed the door.
At last. Alone.
She sighed happily and threw herself on the bed. He was right, it was comfy. Just… not comfy enough to distract her from the baron's strange letter. She pulled it out to read the beautiful calligraphy again and again. She could almost feel how hard it was for the baron to write it, and try to find the right words.
This offer had been unlike any she had ever received before. It… if she was reading it right… it was an offer of friendship. Unconditional friendship. Was it possible, after over three years of wandering the Southern Kingdoms… her cure was calling out to her?
Her heart pounded hopefully. It had been a long and lonely time since leaving her father. Occasionally, she would get companionship by being a bodyguard for a caravan or traveling nobleman, but even then, most people were careful to keep their distance from her unless they wanted to be annoying in one fashion or another.
What made the baron different than all the other people she had met over the years?
She set his letter on the pillow and lay her head next to it thoughtfully. "Why does he have the feeling we need to meet?" she whispered in her true voice. 'Is he the one that can help me become Haru again?'
She had to go. She needed to meet this Baron von Gikkingen and soon. Even if he didn't have her cure… well, who could tell what the future holds?
The cursed woman pulled out her latest map and unfolded it to start hunting for the Piaal baronetcy.
Only a week's journey away from where she was. Well, one thing was for sure; thanks to the Baron von Gikkingen, she was going to have a few nights to quietly rest, or read one of the books she occasionally let herself buy. She hardly ever had time to read, let alone by the light of such a large fireplace.
ooOoo
"What do you know of the Baron of Piaal?"
It was a question she asked at each village she stopped at. She didn't ask it of just innkeepers or their hired help; she would occasionally ask ordinary people working in a mill or someone working in their garden. The kind of people that no one would think to bribe.
"The baron, eh? Well, I've never had anything to complain about with him," one old man drawled as the pale trapper took over cutting firewood. "I mean, he's the higher crust and all, but that don't stop him from rubbing elbows with us common folk."
"Have you ever spoken to him?" Bearskin asked before slicing another log and adding it to the growing pile.
"Nay, but my boy works for him. After I hurt my leg a year ago, the baron sent his own doctor to take a look at me. I'll take that grump over Hazel any day."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "What does your boy do for him?"
"He's a gardener and a good one too. When he came by after the doctor left, he said he hadn't known that the baron could hear him when he was talking to a friend about me. That's the kind of man the baron is; he doesn't wait for someone to ask before lending a hand. He's like you that way."
Bearskin started in surprise. "Like me?"
"Oh, aye, lad. He's like you, if you deserve your reputation, that is."
She gave him a small smile and continued cutting wood for him. "I don't know what people usually say about me. All I know is that despite what people think, I've never met a royal and I've never slain a dragon."
"You haven't?" the man said in surprise. "What about a unicorn?"
"I would never!" she gasped in horror.
"Werewolf?" he asked in resignation.
"Just normal wolves that go mad. Want to see the best scar?" she asked while reaching for her left shoulder.
"Ah, no, not really," he assured her with a nervous smile.
She grinned rather evilly. "I didn't think so."
ooOoo
"Are you kidding? People line up to live on his land!"
"He's the best friend of the prince regent and his most trusted advisor!"
"His wife's the loveliest for miles around!"
"If more aristocrats were like him, this world would be a much better place."
No matter who she asked, the answers all rang the same way. He was a good man, a shining example to both the noble and common in every way.
There was no way that a man like that could be part of a trap.
'Why is my heart pounding so at the thought of meeting him? I haven't felt this excited in years! … Would he still want to help me, if I told him the reason I got cursed?'
She walked through the forest, still not comfortable with traveling on roads if she didn't have to. A brisk autumn breeze flew past, playing with her short white hair and fur cloak.
Just for a minute, she stopped walking, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of fresh air. She could smell crisp leaves and the distant scent of a fox. There was a promise of cool snow in that breeze, making her heart pound in longing.
She never thought it was going to be possible, that she would grow to love snow so much. After all, it was all she had known growing up and had been quite tired of it before beginning her journey. But now, snow reminded her of Papa, still waiting and hoping for the chance to successfully say her name.
'How is he doing without me? Has word of my deeds stretched to the Northern Lands yet? I wonder how Machida is.' Her heart throbbed painfully, making her shake her head with a growl. "Husband and father, most likely; that's what he dreamed of, after all."
A drop of wetness suddenly smacked against her nose. She blinked in surprise and looked up into the sky. It had grown dark despite the hour and the distant rumble of thunder was beginning to be heard.
"Why do I let myself get distracted like this?" Bearskin groaned as she began running. As her long legs ran through the forest, she would occasionally grab a log of wood and hold it under her cloak as the rain became more abundant. There wasn't even time to set up her tarp tent.
But once her eyes came across a small cave, the pale woman knew that she wasn't going to wait until reaching the next village to rest. She dove for the entrance and kicked out the random debris that the wind had carried into it. There was nothing in the cave, making her sigh happily.
She dropped her armful of wood to the ground and proceeded to make a fire as the rain turned into a downpour. "This will actually work better. Caves are more comfortable than any bed from the capital." Personally, she couldn't understand how people could stand sleeping in beds. They were too soft to possibly get good rest on.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had skipped lunch again. She sighed, eased her cooking pot out of the satchel and began preparing her favorite version of rabbit stew. It was a variety that had more vegetables than meat and only enough spices to bring out the natural flavor. It should be tasty with the bread she had from the last inn.
She kept tasting, stirring, adding an onion or dash of spice when she thought the stew needed it. By the time she deemed the taste just right, there was enough stew to make a decent supper and breakfast for her. Pulling her simple wooden bowl out of the wonderful satchel, she used a small cup to scoop stew into the bowl and sit back with a happy sigh.
This really was wonderful. Nothing made her feel more at home like stone and earth surrounding her like a protective shell. How come people thought living in caves was so strange? It was dark outside the cave now, with only occasional light from lightning.
The downpour outside the mouth of the cave suddenly got an uneven beat, as if someone was passing through the almost waterfall covering the entrance. She looked over, but saw nothing. Shrugging, she pulled out a spoon to start on her supper.
"Me… meow?"
She sat up sharply and looked at the entrance again. Someone had been there, after all. But he had been so small, that she hadn't noticed him the first time.
It was a cat.
He- she could only assume it was a he- was dripping wet, as if he had just escaped a bathtub. His limbs were shaking badly and his large green eyes were locked on the cursed trapper.
She looked back at him coolly and waited for him to turn back into the storm outside in a panic. A whole minute passed as the stew cooled in her hands, but the feline did not make a move to leave.
In fact, he didn't make a move at all. Even a statue couldn't have been as still, as he stared at her with an open mouth.
At last, Bearskin grew tired of the staring contest; sighing in resignation. "Look, if you would like somewhere to wait out the storm, I don't mind sharing the cave. If you're hungry, I've got plenty of food," she coaxed, stretching a bit to set the bowl as close to the cat as possible without actually coming close to him. Then she filled the cup she had used before with stew and began sipping it like tea.
The cat seemed to break free from whatever spell it was under, because he cautiously approached the bowl, putting his body closer to the warmth of the little fire. He sniffed politely at the stew and began lapping at it.
Bearskin kept watching him through the corner of her eye; amazed as the cat's appetite began asserting itself almost viciously, until he was licking the bowl clean with his tongue. Who knew when he had last eaten? "There's a bit more stew, if you're still hungry."
He mewed hopefully at her, making her bite back a laugh and refill the bowl for him. There was just enough stew to fill them both, with a bit of room for some bread.
When the cat began rubbing against one of her legs to mew in gratitude, she took that as an invitation to use a spare blanket from her satchel to dry off his soaking fur. Even stranger, the cat did not fight her at all. He kept perfectly still as she worked the blanket over his body until his fur was sticking up a little funny, but at least he was mostly dry.
Wondering if it would break the silent truce between them, she pulled out the wooden comb she usually used for herself and began gently running it through the soft orange fur.
The cat began growling at her. She quickly withdrew the comb, silently scolding herself. 'What was I thinking? That's far too much for me to ask.'
The tawny feline looked up at her with alarm and began meowing in protest.
"Sorry about that; I just wanted to fix your fur a bit," she apologized self-consciously, not really looking him in the eye.
He stared at her in shock, but shook his head to growl again.
"I said I was sorry-" she made to protest, but he hopped into her lap to cover her mouth with one tiny white paw.
He shook his head again and continued that strange growl. As Bearskin listened to it, she slowly realized that it didn't sound angry. If anything, it sounded… content?
She reached up to remove the paw from her mouth. "Is… is that a purr?" she couldn't help but ask.
He nodded with relief and patted the hand holding the comb encouragingly before presenting his back to her.
Still feeling a bit hesitant, she resumed combing his fur as gently as possible. He arched his back happily and went right back to purring.
It really was a beautiful sound, now that she wasn't misunderstanding it. No wonder her father said nothing was more soothing. Or had it been her mother? It had been so long ago, she could barely remember.
Now that the cat was dry and happy on her lap, she could more fully notice the strange markings on its paws. The front ones were as white as his underbelly, although the arms were orange like the rest of him. The back legs, though, were almost completely white, even going at a slant to mimic boots.
'Boots and gloves. At least he's dressed for formal occasions,' she couldn't help but think while suppressing a laugh.
He looked over a shoulder to look at her in confusion. His large green eyes, she suddenly realized, were the exact same shade as what she had seen upon leaving the Northern Lands.
She still thought it was the most beautiful color in the world.
"Why aren't you scared of me?" she couldn't help but whisper in her true voice. "No animal can stand being near me for so long."
Those green eyes seemed startled at the simple fact. He turned to her and began meowing at a rapid pace, as if speaking to her. She listened carefully for several minutes, but couldn't understand a word.
Bearskin sighed tiredly. "Are you a fairy?" It seemed a bit implausible, but it was worth asking.
He shook his head in exasperation.
"A fairy's companion?"
Another shake of the head, although he added an irritated growl to it.
"Then I can handle whatever it is you are," she sighed with relief. "I don't mess with the Fae if I can help it; still haven't recovered from the last time I met one."
He gaped at her with an open mouth.
She ignored the look and checked on the fire. She had just about used up all the wood she brought and the storm wasn't letting up at all. They would have to stay the night.
She grabbed the dirty dishes and moved close to the mouth of the cave to wash them out in the downpour. She sloshed the water around as it poured into each one and shook them dry before depositing them back into her wonderful satchel. "It looks like we'll be here until at least morning. If you want to share my cloak to sleep in, I don't mind."
The cat's entire body twitched and he looked at her in horror.
"It's a little late to be scared of me, you know," she informed him as she carefully laid out enough of her cloak for her to lie down on and wrap herself in the other half like a cocoon. "You've stuck around long enough to see I'm not going to hunt you, so what's your problem?"
He was still looking at her nervously, too scared to even meow. His eyes trailed across her fur- covered body, almost like it was a sleeping predator.
"Suit yourself. I won't even say anything when the fire goes out and it gets cold in here." She yawned and adjusted her hood for a pillow. "Good night, cat."
ooOoo
There were so many men, all of them screaming in fear. They tried to run, but she was too quick for them.
With a roar like thunder, her great paws slammed them to the ground, occasionally running her long claws through their flesh. Her maw was dripping with blood-
She sat up with a gasp, just able to keep herself from screaming. A sob worked its' way past her guard, along with several tears as she tried to regain control.
Nightmares were no strangers to her. But the hardest ones to bear, even more than reliving her human kills, were the ones when she was a blood-thirsty polar bear after innocent people.
"Never," she snarled under her breath as she panted. "I'll never be that. I won't."
A tired mew reached her ears, making her look down. The little cat had snuck under her cloak and into her arms sometime after she fell asleep. He started rubbing at his face to help himself wake up.
"No, don't do that," she whispered, lying back down again and rubbing his fur. "I just had a nightmare, go back to sleep. It's still night, go to sleep."
He gave her a funny look, but licked her gloved hand before curling up in her arms again. A purr once again was heard, helping the young woman to calm down.
Bearskin had a strange revelation, as both she and the feline fell back asleep against the sound of the beating rain.
Having someone to comfort her after a bad dream… felt good.
ooOoo
The next morning was crisp and cool, and the smell of snow not distant at all. Bearskin crawled out of the cave and stretched her limbs gratefully. "I still don't know why people prefer beds to caves," she sighed as she turned a bit.
The tawny cat was standing in the mouth of the cave, looking at her warily. But at least he wasn't scared of her anymore.
"Well… I guess this is goodbye, cat," she said regretfully. "I need to get going, there's a baron within a day's-"
"Meow!" he yelled, running up to her to paw against one leg desperately. "Meow meow!"
"That's right, he wants to meet me," she confirmed, unable to keep from smiling a true smile. "If I'm lucky, he might be able to cure me!"
The cat growled in irritation, shaking his head at a rapid pace.
"Hey, I can hope!" she defended hotly. "No one's ever reached out to me like this before. He might have the cure!"
"Meow!" he retorted while still shaking his head.
The pale woman bit her lip angrily. "I guess there's one way to prove you wrong. I should get to his place before sundown." She turned to go.
The cat circled around her, standing in her way in a defensive position while still shaking his head, hissing and spitting in horror. She kept trying to step around him, but the little cat seemed determined to keep her from leaving. He kept hopping in front of her, meowing angrily and shaking his head.
"Just what is wrong with you? You were so sweet-tempered last night!" she reminded him in irritation.
He slapped one hand against his face much like a human with a headache, and began meowing slowly, putting emphasis on each syllable.
The cursed trapper looked at him, trying to puzzle out his strange behavior. She knelt down to close the distance between them, and to look into his eyes again.
They were angry and… fearful? Of what? No less than thirty-six people had told her that the Baron von Gikkingen was a good man.
Suddenly, she understood. It wasn't about the baron at all, he didn't have a home! Maybe he just didn't want to say goodbye.
"Did you want to come with me?" she asked softly. She wasn't all that interested in saying goodbye, either.
His entire body froze over in fear, and he started shaking his head even more furiously.
"Stop that, you'll hurt yourself," she scolded, stopping his head with one hand. A bite of the lip and an alternative was reached. "You know, you were really good company last night. It felt nice not to have to keep up with my gruff voice. It hurts my vocal chords more than I'd like to admit."
He stopped meowing and was now looking at her in confusion.
"I'll make you a deal, cat. I'm going to go meet the baron now and that will leave you alone."
He started meowing worriedly again.
She started talking fast, not wanting him to go violent again. "But whether or not he can cure me, I'll come back here for you. If you're gone, I'll assume that you can take care of yourself and this really is goodbye. But, if you're not opposed to spending even more time around a trapper like me, I'd be happy to take you along."
His mouth fell open a bit.
"I can't make a lot of promises on what happens from there. If I'm cured, I'll… well, I guess I don't… really know." She gave an ironic laugh. "Not that I ever really know what I'm going to do while cursed, except that I'll probably keep up with what I usually do; travel around and make a nuisance of myself until finding the place that can cure me."
He kept staring at her, although the shock was beginning to be replaced with… wonder? Hope? It was hard to tell.
"Remember, you'll probably have a couple hours to make a decision before I come back." She rubbed his head gently. "I can't guarantee safety, but I can guarantee an adventure or two, if you're interested. Choose wisely and be well, cat." She rubbed his head again, much like she had with children, and took off running before he had a chance to stop her again.
'Wouldn't it be nice if he decided to come along? He probably won't, but it'd be nice if he did. I didn't have to lie around him at all.' She shook her head to clear it and increased her speed. She shouldn't be worrying about the cat; that would work itself out one way or another.
What she should be thinking about was the Baron of Piaal. But if that was so… why did she feel so cold?