The rain starts the moment we pass the last Merchant Cross gate, cold drops hitting the sandstone cobbles. My ears flatten instantly, pinning tight to my skull as the first wet smack hits cowl and then my blonde hair before it soaks through in seconds. My tail snaps low and rigid, tip twitching in pure disgust. I hate this. Hate the way the water clings, heavy and tight, turning my little fur into a sodden stink. The dark blue cloak sticks to my shoulders like a second skin and my collar feels suddenly tight and cold against my throat.

Worst is the smell. My own musk, wild, sharp, mine, yet it gets drowned under this wet dog stink that makes my nostrils wrinkle and my fangs bare in clear revulsion. It’s not just unpleasant,  it’s wrong. Off putting. Makes me feel exposed, diminished, like something lesser. Others will smell it too.

I press harder against Master’s side, shoulder jammed to his hip, cheek rubbing aggressively along his arm despite the rain making everything slick and miserable. My tail curls three tight loops around his wrist, squeezing hard. I won’t let go. 

He doesn’t slow, doesn’t comment on the wettness or the way my boots squelch with every step. Just keeps walking, calm and steady.

The Oak Trade Road gives way to the forest edge sooner than I expect. Trees rise, branches heavy with dripping leaves, moss thick underfoot. The rain softens under the canopy but it's still falling nonetheless, still cold but broken into slower drips that patter on my ears and tail instead of hammering.

We don’t speak but we also don’t need to. The bond hums steady between us as we continue until we spot a small deer.

A small deer lifts its head from a patch of grass as we pass, wide dark eyes, ears twitching. It freezes for half a heartbeat before then bounding off silently into the undergrowth. I bare my fangs at its retreating tail, just to warn it, a slow, lazy flash of white fangs but I don’t chase. Not today. Not when Master’s hand is still on my tail, thumb pressing slow circles at the base that make my ears flick forward despite the wet.

Further on, a pair of foxes slip across the path without a sound. Peaceful and completely unbothered.

Master stops. Surveys the space before he then lowers himself to one knee on the thick bed of leaves, shrugging off his cloak and spreading it out. I drop beside him instantly, knees sinking into the grass, tail curling tight around his ankle before I press my whole dripping front along his side again. 

He reaches into the inner pocket of his satchel, still mostly dry and pulls out the small fire starter and then orange light blooms, warm and flickering, pushing the chill back from our faces.

I don’t wait for invitation. I crawl half into his lap burying my mouth deep into the crook of his neck. 

The fire crackles. Rain patters overhead. Animals move quietly in the dark beyond the light, deer stepping careful, foxes slinking, owls calling once from high branches. None of them matter. None of them come close.

Then he just tucks me tighter into his lap, one hand sliding under my soaked cloak to press flat against my back, the other cupping the nape of my neck. "Hummm good kitten," he murmurs against my ear, voice low. "Let's get you warmed up now oh and here."

He pulls out the rations, a small bundle of goblin dried jerky, strips of dark venison and that rock hard cat tail bread. My tail lashes once, sharp and delighted.

I don't wait.

My claws hook into the jerky as I snatch the first strip between my fangs, tearing into it with slow, deliberate bites. The venison is tough, salty and perfect.

"Eat," I growl around the mouthful, voice husky and thick with possession. My tail squeezes his waist harder before it then loosens.

The cat tail bread I break with my claws whilst I chew it slowly, fangs breaking against the dense tough outer layer. You could seriously hammer a nail in with this toughness but food is food.

“Oh kitten, pass them here will you.”

I don’t hesitate. I grab the bundle of rock hard cat tail bread with one hand and shove it toward him, but he’s already reaching for me instead. His fingers close around my right wrist, gentle but firm and he draws my hand forward until my claws are hovering right above them.

He presses my claws to the crust and guides them slowly and deliberately, using the tips to slice straight through the dense bread with a crisp crack.

“There we go,” he murmurs, voice warm against my ear as he splits them clean in half. He presses one piece straight to my lips. I take it between my fangs whilst my claws stay lightly hooked around his fingers like I’m daring him to let go.

Master finishes the last bite of bread, brushing the crumbs from his fingers against his trouser leg then he glances up through the canopy where the grey light has finally broken into weak, watery sunlight.

“Looks like the sun is still up,” he says, calm as ever. “Let’s go get a fresh catch.” He then stands in one smooth motion, stepping back from the fire and leaving my lap suddenly, horribly empty.

I twitch once, my ears snapping forward then flattening hard against my skull. My tail lashes once, sharp and irritated, whipping the ground behind me and sending a spray of droplets flying. But I don’t move. I stay exactly where I am, crouched on all fours.

My lips peel back from my fangs in a slow, smug, utterly spoiled grin. “Oh, Master,” I purr, voice low and thick with possessive heat, “you think you can just stand up and call me like some common little house pet ? After I’ve spent the whole night wrapped around you, soaked to the bone, purring my lungs out just so you’d keep your hand on my tail ? How adorable. How precious.” My tail then curls high behind me.

“But fine. I’ll indulge you. Because you’re mine. Because every step you take belongs to me. Because if I let you wander off alone some pretty little forest creature might forget who you really answer to.”

I rise slowly and deliberately as I prowl forward on all fours until I’m right at his feet.

Then his hand drops and taps twice against his leg, just above the knee. “Come on girl, let’s go. Come on.”

My tail snaps straight up in pure, spoiled ecstasy. A ragged, triumphant purr rips out of my chest so loud. I surge forward instantly, fluid, eager, pressing my whole body against his leg. “Yes, Master,” I murmur against his thigh, “I’m coming. I’m always coming when you call.”

My nose dips straight to the ground, nose flaring wide despite the lingering rain stink clinging to my blonde coat. The wet earth should mask everything, should drown every scent but my instincts don’t care. They surge behind my eyes, cat vision sharpening.

There.

Under the trees, faint but unmistakable. Fox. Not one. Three at least. Warm musk. The trail is fresh, winding north east through the grass, still hot enough that my claws flex automatically into the soft ground.

I can’t see them yet, clever little things staying hidden but I have the trail locked in my skull.

My tail lashes again, slower this time, deliberate and arrogant. “Foxes, Master,” I purr, voice thick and husky, ears flicking forward then flattening with smug delight. “Three of them. Close. I can smell the blood on their muzzles… they think they’re safe.”

I nuzzle harder into his leg, claws digging lightly into the grass on either side of his boots, I lift my head just enough to bare my fangs. “They’re mine to bring you. All of them.”

My nose is buried deep when it hits me straight through the bond. "Good kitten." The words bloom warm inside my skull, pure euphoria. I can’t think. Can’t focus. The fox trail that I had locked so perfectly just vanishes.

Gone.

All I smell now is stupid, stupid dampness. Wet fur. My own soaked coat turning everything into a heavy fog. Rain stink and mud but nothing useful. My claws dig into the grass, shoulders rolling forward as I shove my face harder against the ground. No trail. No foxes. Just the humiliating reek of wet cat clinging to me like shame.

I freeze.

“Master…” I growl against his leg, voice thick, half whine, half snarl. “The trail… it’s gone. Because of you. Because you said that and now I can’t smell anything but this stupid rain on me and it’s your fault and I hate it but I love it and...”

My claws hook into his trouser leg, pulling myself higher until I’m half climbing him. “You’ll just have to carry me now,” I murmur, voice dark and spoiled, tail squeezing harder. “Since your good kitten ruined the hunt… you have to fix it. Hold me. Scratch me. Tell me again.”

Master bends down without a word, one knee sinking into the wet grass as he leans forward and studies the ground where I’d just been frantically sniffing. His fingers brush aside a clump of soaked leaves, then trace a faint line in the mud with the tip of one finger. I stay glued to his leg, head pressed hard against his thigh, tail still coiled around his ankle watching him with wide humiliated blue eyes.

He finds it. The trail. I can see the exact moment he picks it up again, the tiny shift in his shoulders, the way his head tilts just slightly. My ears flatten completely against my skull and my tail gives one vicious lash against his leg before curling even tighter around him in pure mortified defeat.

Master straightens slowly, glancing down at me with that calm, unreadable face, the corner of his mouth twitching the tiniest bit. “Somehow an Alderian is a better tracker than a cat girl.” The words hit me instantly.

My whole body stiffens. A low, embarrassed growl rumbles in my chest, half whine, half hiss, vibrating against his leg.

“Master…” I whine. “That’s not fair. You cheated. You said good kitten and everything went fuzzy and warm and now I can’t smell anything but stupid rain and you and it’s your fault I lost it and, and, and you’re not allowed to be better at this than me. I’m supposed to be the hunter. I’m supposed to bring you things. You’re supposed to just… just pet me and tell me I’m perfect.”

I nuzzle harder, practically climbing his leg now as he starts walking again, slow and steady, following the trail deeper into the trees. I stay glued to his side, half crawling, half walking on all fours, shoulder jammed against his hip, face pressed to his thigh the entire way. Every few steps I give a little frustrated huff against his leg.

We push inward for maybe twenty minutes. The trail gets thinner, the rain heavier in patches. Even Master slows. He stops once, crouches again, fingers brushing the ground… and the scent goes cold. He loses it.

I feel a tiny, smug little spike of satisfaction until I remember I lost it first because of his praise and the embarrassment comes crashing back twice as hard. My tail droops. My ears stay flat.

But then after a long moment of him just standing there quietly scanning the grass, he crouches again, head tilted, fingers parting the wet leaves once more. He finds it. The trail picks back up, faint, but there.

I immediately surge forward and shove my head under his hand, rubbing my wet cheek against his palm with a desperate, needy little purr. “Master found it again…” I murmur. “Of course you did. You’re better at everything. Even when your silly kitten messes up and loses everything because you told her she’s good…”

I nuzzle harder into his palm, fangs grazing his skin in tiny nips. “Keep going,” I whisper against his hand. “I’ll stay right here. I’ll follow you forever. Just… maybe tell me I’m good again when we catch them? Please?”

We continued deeper into the forest then Master slowed. I lifted my head just enough to follow his gaze, ears perking forward and then we found them. A small family of foxes.

They were completely at peace. The mother occasionally licked one of the young with slow tender strokes of her tongue, her movements lazy and loving. The father blinked slowly, ears relaxed, occasionally shifting just enough to let one of the waking young climb over his back. No tension. No fear. Just a quiet, ordinary family moment in the heart of the woods.

I stayed perfectly still, crouched low against Master’s leg, my tail slowly uncurling only to wrap twice around his wrist instead. My claws flexed lightly into the grass but I didn’t move. My hunter instincts flared hot for half a heartbeat… then softened, melting into something quieter.

My voice came out as a soft whisper “…They’re so peaceful, Master.”

The little family was over five feet away. Five measly feet. Close enough that I could see the soft rise and fall of the mothers ribs, the tiny twitch of a youngs ear as it dreamed.

My ears snapped forward. My tail stiffened mid sway, then lashed once hard. My muscles coiled like springs. I surged. Low, silent, liquid, knees pushing off the grass, claws extending, shoulders rolling forward for the perfect pounce. My lips peeled back from my fangs in a silent snarl of pure predatory joy.

And then I stopped. Dead. Mid leap. My front paws slammed back down into the leaves less than two feet from the foxes tail. My whole body locked rigid, tail frozen high and trembling, ears flat against my skull in sudden, horrified realisation.

They were further than 5ft...

Master didn’t say anything. He simply reached down, calm as ever, and his crossbow. The motion was so smooth, so quiet that even I barely heard the soft click of the string locking back. He loaded a bolt without looking away from the foxes, raised the weapon and released the bolt.

The bolt whispered out, almost silent swallowed instantly by the rain and the trees. It missed. Cleanly. Buried itself in the grass a foot to the left of the father fox with barely a sound. None of them even flinched. The mother continued grooming a young with slow, loving strokes. One of the babies yawned, stretched its tiny paws, and rolled over. The father blinked once, lazily, then rested his chin back on his paws.

Everything stayed exactly as peaceful as before. So Master raised the weapon again,  The biggest fox, the father, strong and dark coated, lifted his head at the exact wrong moment.

The bolt flew true and silent. It took the big dog fox clean through the chest, just behind the shoulder. He made a single sharp yelp of surprise, legs buckling instantly. His body hit the leaves with a soft thud.

The rest exploded into motion, a blur of red and panic. The mother snatched the nearest young by the scruff and bolted into the grass with a terrified bark. The other two young scattered in different directions, tiny legs running, high pitched squeals cutting through the rain as they vanished into the undergrowth.

In seconds the forest was empty except for the fallen father fox, his body still twitching once, twice, then going still.

Master lowered the crossbow and began reloading again but the others were already gone.

I stared at the dead fox for a long moment then slowly melted against Master’s leg completely. My face pressed hard into his leg rubbing frantic little circles as a deep shaky purr rolled out of me.

“You… you took the big one,” I murmured voice thick with adoration and awe. “The strongest one. The protector. And the others just… ran. Like they should. Master… you’re so calm. So perfect. Even when I almost ruined everything, you fixed it. You always fix it.”

Master looks at me. Just looks, that calm, quiet gaze that always feels like it sees straight through my soaked fur and straight into the greedy, spoiled heart underneath. My ears flick forward instantly then flatten with a helpless little shiver as the bond pulses warm between us. 

He bends down without a word, hooks one hand under the big dog fox’s chest and lifts the body with effortless strength. The fox’s head lolls, tongue slipping out, blood still slowly dripping from the neat wound in its chest. Master slings the carcass over his shoulder like it weighs nothing, the long red tail dangling down his back.

I surge up immediately, “You got him,” I murmur against his arm. “The biggest one. The protector. All for me… for us.”

I nuzzle deeper, fangs grazing his shoulder through the damp cloak, then soothe the spot with a slow drag of my tongue. Every step I stay glued to him, half walking, half trotting on all fours beside him, shoulder bumping his hip.

“See? I knew you’d provide,” I purr, low and spoiled. “Even when your silly kitten got distracted and lost the trail… you still brought dinner home. My perfect Master.”

The forest feels quieter now. Just the soft patter of rain, the distant call of a bird, and the steady rhythm of Master’s footsteps with me clinging to his side like I was born there.

“Almost home,” I whisper against him, tail squeezing once more. “I’ll help you skin it. I’ll help you cook it. I’ll do anything you want… as long as you keep letting me stay right here.”