The trio were not fighters. While the men may have wielded weapons, they obviously did not know how to use them, holding them out in fear. Ruben appeared to have only used his studded bat to intimate, never to attack or defend, swinging it wildly side to side with no hope of making contact. Eduard’s weapon may have been a grand example of engineering the past into something but it barely held together, shaking so badly his arm shook with it as if his body was just an extension. He had to keep yanking down on the plastic rope, the cracked cogs and wheels straining as they coughed to life and ran out of momentum every half minute. It may have appeared fierce, but it would stall the moment it even met another surface. Their bravado and weapons were all for show. Magna had no deception to carry, her purpose and attention solely on the horse, her skin rubbed raw struggling to control the desperate animal.

They had no hope of fighting the bear - they should have retreated calmly and nothing would have happened, and yet they stood with terror bolstered with an old man’s aggravation of never reaching home.

Neri rushed, sprinting past trees and dodging the roots adamant in tripping her up, her sword ready and she filled the gap between human and bear. The bear didn’t stop, she only reared up near as tall as a tree, one large claw flashing and swiping downwards.

The blade clashed against claw and the warrior collapsed to her knees, the force behind the movement too great, and she gripped the sword with both hands, one palm ripping on her own blade as she fought against the weight.

The bear leaned back, shrugging the pain away as if it barely registered, allowing a second’s reprieve for Neri before the bear opened her mouth, canines as long as the woman’s forearm, and dived forwards once more.

No sword, no warrior on her knees, no one with the lacklustre support of three traders who didn’t know how to handle their own weapons could meet this attack and win.

Arna surged across the forest, her human legs too slow, her strength and senses duller than she was accustomed to, despite that any normal human would easily pale in comparison to her. She unclasped the bag on her back and pulled off the cloak, letting them fall to the forest floor. The matter of secrecy was cast aside as her body shimmered, her voice tearing out of her throat dropping to a guttural roar, her transformation like stepping into a pair of well-worn shoes. She heard the rip of clothes, shreds of material fluttering away as thick blackness unfurled across her skin. The scents, the sounds, the colours of the forest all cascaded over her, her otherworldly senses rising out of water to take a breath of fresh air. She shot forwards, two becoming four, and she pounced the final distance, her entire body crashing into the bear and warm blood flooded her mouth.

They slammed against a tree, branches rustling and shaking, and Arna sunk her fangs deeper into the bear’s shoulder. Her aim wasn’t to kill the bear, but rather compel it to retreat.

“Arna!” she heard the warrior cry.

“What the hell is that?!” she heard Eduard yell.

The mother bear roared, shoving back against the tree and throwing Arna off in one heaving movement. She landed gracefully a few feet away, lowering her stance, a snarl emanating from her throat and reaching throughout her body, amber eyes glowing like molten ore within the shimmering white skull.

The bear focused on her, large and imposing.

“Drop your weapons!” the saber growled.

“But-”

“Now!” she interrupted Neri, flicking her tail sharply as the bear charged once more.

She stood up on her back paws, bodies colliding as claws met and fought against one another, growling and glaring. The warrior behind her demanded the caravan relinquish their weapons and was only answered with panicked defiance. Arna’s eyes refocused on the cubs cowering above, peeking out to anxiously watch their mother. The bear noticed and the weight grew heavier.

“Neri! Get them out of here!” If the trio wouldn’t drop their weapons, they at least needed to reduce the threat by leaving. “Go back!”

She heard the spin of heel on dirt as the warrior sheathed her sword and instead grabbed the arms of the men, pulling them back, yelling at Magna to follow.

“Now it’s just you and me,” Arna quietly said, pushing back on the bear before leaping aside.

The bear dropped to all fours, dust and debris clouding beneath her claws. She scanned the forest, finding no one but the saber, and lifted one great paw.

Arna dodged, agile and swift, and swung around the mother to position herself between her and the cubs. She needed to lead her further away from the humans and then lose her.

Akin to fury, the bear’s eyes widened and the charge came blinding, maw roaring and sharp, and Arna didn’t move in time. The bear’s teeth grazed her throat and plunged into the back of her neck, hot crimson flowing through black fur.

Arna howled in agony, wriggling pathetically in the bear’s hold, pushing claws upwards in an attempt to force the mother’s face away. The cubs whimpered above and the fangs sunk, grating on bone. Need to get out, out and away, she thought, claws slicing the bear’s snout open, ursine features dripping red, and yet she still bit down.

“Arna!” a cry came, striking a deeper, keener cut in her heart as the warrior emerged from the trees, breathless and alone. She froze at the sight of the saber hanging helplessly in the bear’s mouth, blood drenched and struggling, and then she unsheathed her sword and ran – straight at the bear.

“No!” Arna shouted, her struggle harder, desperate and afraid. She cast her claws upwards one more time, gouging out one of the bear’s eyes. The reaction was immediate – the bear threw her head back in a scream, backing away and shaking the blood out of her eyes, pawing at the pain. Arna dropped to the ground, her legs quivering for a moment as she lifted herself up. Neri was still running, sword ready.

The bear heard the snap of twigs and crumbling soil underfoot, ears swivelling to pinpoint the attack, and she twisted, one eye glaring and the other a gush of blood. The mother towered above on two legs, one swooping claw diving downwards, and the warrior grasped her blade in hand, opening up her palm again on the edge, prepared to meet the blow.

But this was a wounded and outraged mother protecting her cubs – Neri still had no chance of receiving the attack unharmed. It would disarm her, it would shred through her hands and arms, it would tear her chest open and her throat would bleed a dying rhythm.

Arna rode through the pain of her torn neck and turned, surging forwards in one great leap. She hurtled past the bear, the claws narrowly missing her throat, and her own paws thudded against Neri’s shoulders. In comparison to the strength and weight of the bear, the warrior was a wood panel next to a metal barred door, and they barrelled backwards, rolling and plummeting down the forest hill. Arna stuck out a back leg, halting their descent with a sharp jolt before Neri could crash into a tree.

Arna swung around, gazing up at the bear and her cubs. They were a distance away now but the bear could still easily charge them, they could still be seen as a threat. Hackles raised, she lowered herself into a defensive stance with the warrior’s body beneath her and she bared her fangs, her amber eyes glowing bright within the bloodstained skull.

The mother bear stared back, judging and determining, and the cubs whined behind her. Something past between them, something Arna had no words for – an understanding, a compromise, and the bear turned away.

The saber waited until the bear and her cubs had vanished into the forest before she relaxed her stance. She listened – the mother was leading her cubs away and the trader trio were safe, clustered together in a gutter of dirt and roots further down the slope.

A gentle tug on the fur of her belly drew Arna’s attention. A bleeding hand clung to her and she found emerald green eyes closely watching her. The saber stepped off the woman, turning so she could press the nose of her skull against Neri’s cheek, taking a deep breath of her scent. Her dulled senses in human form could do no justice to the full comfortable feeling of Neri’s warmth, her scent, her simple existence amplified in such a way that Arna’s heart immediately calmed. She sensed the pain the woman felt, the fall through the forest bruising her body without mercy but she had no broken bones, no injured organs. She would recover.

A clatter of metal against pebble – Neri had somehow still kept hold of her sword, only now dropping it to bring her other hand up to touch Arna’s face, trembling fingers tracing the skull with a soothing gentleness.

Then her fingers trailed back, both hands now hovering over the wet fur across her neck. “Y-you’re hurt,” the warrior breathed, eyes glistening. “I…I saw you were hurt and I-”

“You didn’t want it to happen again,” Arna finished for her, softly.

The warrior shook her head. “Not just that,” she choked, tears freely flowing. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Arna gently licked away the saltiness on the woman’s cheeks. “You wouldn’t have lost me.”

“The bear – it had hold of you. Y-your neck! The blood!” The warrior gingerly brushed her trembling fingertips over the wound. “It’s still bleeding. W-we need to stop the bleeding.”

Arna nudged the woman’s face with her nose, drawing her focus away from the wound. Wide eyes met hers, scared and distraught. “Neri, I’ll be fine. I have lived for decades and survived worse than this.”

“But your neck-!”

“Neri.” She waited until the woman calmed her breathing, her shaking hands now cupping Arna’s skull-face. “Trust me. I’m not lying to you.”

Neri pressed her forehead against Arna’s, closing her eyes, her heart still thundering in her chest. “You’ll be fine?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured. “I won’t be able to change back just yet though. The transformation would…hurt and reopen it all before it has chance to heal.”

Neri’s eyelids fluttered, her face pulling back a little, her brow furrowed with worry. “How long?”

“Not long. After all, I’m not human,” she reminded her, her tone flat but she allowed herself to smile. A fang-baring smirk that may have appeared to be a threat if not for the gleam in her eye and the short purr bursting to life in her chest, ending as quickly as it began. She forced herself to retreat from Neri’s touch, trudging back up the forest slope to where her belongings had been strewn amongst the autumn debris.

“I’m sorry about the clothes,” she said as the warrior joined her, sheathing her sword and limping from the bruises probably already patterning her back and legs dark blue and purple.

Neri eased herself into a crouch with a pained groan, picking up a shred of material that once was a shirt, her palm bleeding into the ragged stitching. “You still have your other outfit.”

They had switched from summer to winter clothing at the outskirts of the mountain range, the summer outfit safely packed away in the bag she had thrown aside. Arna found it along with her cloak at the foot of a tree, the roots a perfect seat as if they were an offering. Neri took them, carrying the bag over one shoulder with the cloak folded across it.

“We should return to your charges,” the saber said, hearing the trio bicker and whisper below.

“Yes, we should.” But the warrior didn’t move at first.

Arna looked up at her, concern flitting through her. “Are you okay?”

“You saved me,” she stated, her voice still strained with the tears she had shed and the pain wracking her body. “From the bear; you saved me twice.”

The saber shifted to fully face the woman, her head dropping to one side, waiting.

“Thank you,” Neri said, her words barely above a whisper. “You saved me and you saved them. You…It didn’t happen again.”

“It won’t be easy,” Arna said, flashing her claws as she resumed the climb down the slope. “The trio won’t take this kindly.”

“But we’re alive because of you,” Neri countered, keeping pace. “We’re not hurt because of you.”

Arna huffed. “I hurt you.”

The warrior almost stumbled as if to further prove the point. “To save me. I wouldn’t be standing here if you didn’t push me out of the way.”

They approached the fissure carved out by an entanglement of tree roots, three voices reaching them while the horse fought against its reins at the sight of the saber, the rope tied securely to one of the great, twisted roots.

Arna halted, reluctant to continue. This wasn’t going to be easy for anyone.

A hand rested against her shoulder, below her wound, warm fingers brushing through her fur. “It’ll be fine,” the warrior told her quietly. “And even if it isn’t, we have each other. Right?”

The slight hesitation, the hint of apprehension, the tone of faltering doubt – it slammed into Arna like someone had grasped her heart and squeezed it. The uncertainty in the warrior’s voice wasn’t due to her concerns of how the other humans would react, but rather because she didn’t think the shapeshifter felt the same, worried that Arna might not still wish to remain by the warrior’s side.

The same hand that had gripped her heart gently lifted it up, a beacon, a warm light that coiled in her chest like a sleeping animal around a furnace, complete and patient. Arna had thought the warrior to be a source of hope and she had been all too right. To think after so many years someone wanted her to stay, to have their back, to trust and be trusted – and for Arna to willingly throw her entire being into protecting them and have the desire to stay by them…Three humans who would likely wish her dead or worse paled in contrast to the memorizing beauty of the woman beside her.

“Of course,” she finally said, not afraid. She turned her head to lick the blood dripping from the woman’s palm. “I told you I’d stay.”

The warrior’s lips pulled into a gentle smile. “Ready?” She motioned towards the traders who had yet to notice them.

“No,” she responded with a sigh. “Lead the way.”

Neri’s hand touched her shoulder again and let it lay there with her fingers wrapped within thick fur, almost reminiscent of the feeling when the woman would take Arna’s hand, and they dropped down amongst the roots.