They’d camped that night in the shadow of a well, carved deep into the sand and veiled by over-arching trees blooming flowers and fruit. Animals had crept past them with cautious suspicion to drink from the water pooling from a pipe that constantly but slowly pumped water from below and leaked around the stone walls.

Breakfast was a hard fruit crushed between Arna’s jaws, half going to Neri, after the warrior had filled a large metal flask with water. Their journey continued in an oddly comfortable silence, even as their feet left the sand and touched the barren, cracked plains spreading like a huge ironed out crater.

It wasn’t until they found the dust road paved out by dozens of travelling humans across the land and began to follow it that Neri spoke.

“Do you know of the crossroads?” she asked.

Arna gave her a sideways glance and let one paw drag wide across the dirt road they walked. “It’s where all these paths finally meet.”

The warrior nodded. “It’s the middle of the map – from the crossroads you can travel to each of the main cities. Atsylei being the capital one.”

“Shkhan, Marville, Polenya, and Flayburn,” listed Arna. The places she avoided the most, next to settlements and raider camps. The five cities were built on and with the ruins of the past, but Atsylei was the safest, most defendable one, and welcomed trade and guilds from all walks of life. It made sense that Neri and her Warrior’s Guild would find its home there.

“Right. Well, the inn at the crossroads is where we are staying tonight before we head to Atsylei tomorrow. A good friend runs it.”

Arna stopped. “I can’t-”

“You can,” Neri interrupted. “It’s my friend’s business to welcome everyone and everything into his inn, and even without that, Demly is a good man.”

“Even a good man wouldn’t look the devil in the eye and open his door.”

The warrior scoffed. “You are no devil, and what am I in this situation? If I can willingly break fast with you, then Demly can provide the bread.”

“A unique chain of events led us to this. Your friend will not allow a monster onto his premises.”

“However foolish this may be, I believe and trust you, Arna. Now, please believe and trust in me.” Neri sharply turned on her heel to meet the glowing gaze of the saber. “You are no monster, and you yourself said this isn’t your only form.”

That made Arna hesitate. “I haven’t changed in decades,” she mumbled uncertainly. “I don’t even know if I can anymore.”

Neri’s lips wavered a gentle smile. “You can try,” she said. “And if you can’t, I can just say you’re my fancy cat companion.”

Arna narrowed her eyes. Was…was that a joke?

The warrior laughed at the saber’s expression as she returned to following the broken path. “I’ve heard of crazier things happening.”

They didn’t mention it again until the road beneath their feet abruptly twisted and splintered, joining the branches of a crossroads with an inn nestled at its centre. A mix of wood and stone, the inn was the heart of a dusted compass, smoke billowing from the blackened chimney as dusk fell pale and grey.

Arna let the noises and smells flow over her. Animals rustled in the barn attached to the building’s side and the bustle of people within was both warm and chilling. The windows were yellow with firelight, harsh voices and the clink of glass mingling along the scents of hay and sweat, stale alcohol and travellers’ dirt.

Neri halted by her side, fingertips daring to brush over the fur of her shoulders before pulling back. “I’ll go in,” she said quietly.

Arna’s eyes were frozen on the inn. She had never been this close to it before and her heart thundered with the countless anxieties reminding her of all the possible dangers and dead ends. Even if she could manage to change, there was no way she would enter that building.

Neri must have sensed it because her fingers once again drifted against Arna’s side, barely touching but enough to draw her attention. “You can wait by the barn while I talk to Demly, if you want. It’s out of sight.”

The saber skull ducked and she slunk forwards, disappearing into the shadows cast by the dying sun against the barn’s rustic silhouette. The warrior watched until her eyes couldn’t follow her dark shape any longer, moving purposefully towards the inn door. She swung it open easily, one hand on the hilt of her sword, and melded into the raucous gloom inside.

Arna listened.

The horses and the cattle laid with the goats shuffled in the barn, the chickens tittering in the rafters. They knew she was there and she huffed, low and morose. The animals didn’t panic nor did they settle.

“Neri!” a man’s voice called out inside the inn. Cheerful, welcoming, yet no fake friendliness tainted his words. “I have missed your face! How have you been?!”

A clap of a hand against a bar counter. The squeak of armour on top of an old stool. “It’s good to see you, Demly,” replied Neri, her voice a lot quieter but just as clear to Arna. “I’m heading back to Atsylei and I wondered if I could get a bed for the night.”

A slight pause. “Ah,” the innkeeper sighed, knowingly. “Of course.”

The rustle of belongings as hands searched. “I have some metal and cloth to trade,” the warrior offered. The random items she had grabbed from the rubble of her old house.

Demly shifted, the clink of ring-decorated fingers touching thin metal. “This will do; keep the rest. I’ll throw in some food too.”

The warrior stuttered. “A-are you sure? I can-”

“Neri,” the man cut her off, his voice firm yet still as warm. “Allow me to offer one night of respite for an old friend.”

“You are a good man, Demly,” the warrior mumbled, and her voice echoed in Arna’s ears.

“And you are a good warrior, Neri. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

The passing of keys, a cheap plate, a tankard heavy with sloshing liquid. “One last thing, Demly. I’m not alone.”

Arna’s heart skipped. Don’t.

A moment’s hesitation as surely the man searched for Neri’s invisible companion. “Are you being followed?”

“Oh, no. I don’t mean…” A nervous swallow. “A friend. She’s outside.”

A happy chortle. “Why didn’t you just say?! Bring her in, the bed is big enough for two.”

Stop. Don’t say anymore. The animals breathed shakily.

“She’ll be staying outside, Demly. She’s not comfortable around people.”

A noise of understanding. “I’ll grab some more food. Tell her she’s welcome to take shelter with the animals. Old Blern will keep her warm.”

Arna tuned out, leaning her head back to gaze at the darkening sky. The stars were already blooming like a hundred thousand candles, a million souls watching her from another world. With everything that had happened, there was at least one good thing about the devastation of humanity. The night sky was so beautifully clear, no city lights polluting the sky, no clouds of poison and coal cloaking the atmosphere – just the galaxy spread across the vast above as it should be.

Footsteps approached but Arna didn’t move her eyes. She still traced the colours of the sunset glowing blue and purple, distant reds and oranges, deep and ethereal. It was like staring into a portal to another place, another dimension where everything was spectacular and yet so very, very alone. Each star a solitary torch amongst an ocean of plenty.

“Arna,” the warrior whispered, crouching down beside her.

When the saber didn’t immediately respond, Neri too looked up. A gentle gasp of awe told Arna that the woman loved the view just as much.

Once her heart calmed and the dirt beneath her feet grounded her to a planet ever moving, Arna turned to face Neri. She was carrying a plate layered with thick bread, oily gravy, and some form of meat, with a half-full tankard in her other hand. She had taken off her armour and her hair looked cleaner, a strand falling in front of her eyes. Arna wished she could push it back behind the woman’s ear and cast the thought aside as quickly as it came.

Neri laid the plate and tankard down before her. “For you,” she said, leaning against the barn wall and folding her arms across her knees, pulling them up so she could rest her chin on top.

Arna lapped up the cool water in the tankard first, relishing in the surprisingly pristine taste, before almost inhaling the food. Licking the gravy dripping from her chin, she knew full well that her fangs gleamed threateningly in the shadow but Neri didn’t even flinch. In fact, she seemed relaxed as if they had known each other years and were simply enjoying a night under the stars.

A mere dream. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still gruff and strangled.

Green eyes turned to her and they were just as beautiful as the sky above. They asked a silent question.

She tried to answer. The white skull shimmered, black fur seemed to waver as if under water, and amber eyes glowed brighter, but the large saber remained. Arna let out a raspy breath, her muscles aching and the air sharp as knives in her lungs. She couldn’t change. “I’m sorry, it’s been so long.”

Neri smiled, her gaze soft. “It’s okay. Thank you for trying.” Then the green of her eyes twinkled with a strange curious spark. She lifted her hand cautiously, slowly and hesitatingly approaching the black fur of Arna’s body. She stopped, another silent question on her lips.

Arna hesitated too. The warrior wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t wary. She was just being careful. She suddenly realized that the woman felt safe – she felt safe at the inn, with a friend she trusted inside, but she also felt safe with Arna.

“You really do see me as a big cat companion, don’t you?”

Neri startled, her hand snapping back to her side. She looked ashamed, regretful. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“I’m joking,” she interrupted, and just as cautiously she moved her head towards the warrior. She bowed the skull, closing her eyes, and waited. If Neri was going to trust her like this, then maybe Arna could try to trust and believe in someone again. She…she wanted to, and maybe this warrior…this woman could be the one that wouldn’t betray her.

Silence, as if nothing dared breathe. A breeze caressed skin and bone, the heat of the day cooling and fresh. Then, ever so gentle as if frightened of breaking her, Neri’s fingers touched Arna’s shoulders. When Arna didn’t move away, her hand shifted through her fur, fingertips warm and oddly soothing as they brushed along her neck and back. Neri wasn’t going to hurt her. She felt it with every movement of her hand, she sensed it in the way the woman leaned towards her, unafraid, and when she opened her eyes, she saw it in the way Neri smiled.

Unbidden, a rumble in her chest flowed like hot blood vibrating in her throat with a peace she hadn’t felt in too long. It wasn’t threatening or fearful. It was something Arna never even imagined was possible – hilariously and embarrassingly so.

Neri’s hand stopped, her fingers deep in Arna’s fur. “Are…are you purring?”

Arna shifted away. “No.”