Magna was the first to notice them, already edging towards the horse struggling against its rope, while the men only startled from their sharply whispered discussion when their feet thudded against the lower ground. Ruben almost threw himself backwards, hurtling into the tangled roots in an attempt to escape the saber silently watching him flail and panic. Eduard steered his engineered chainsaw to point it threateningly at them, yanking down so it burst into shaky life, but Arna just huffed quietly, letting her eyes glaze over in the hope that this would end quickly.

Neri held a hand up, her body positioned slightly in front of Arna with her fingers still sunken into the fur at her shoulders. “Eduard, you can put your weapon away now. The bear is gone.”

“That isn’t,” he hissed, gaze narrowing as his pulse thundered.

The warrior paused for moment before continuing, ignoring his comment. “We shouldn’t have trespassed so far into her territory. You knew the route home, did you not?”

The grey-flecked beard trembled as Eduard’s jaw worked, his arms vibrating with the harsh throttle of the saw until it died down. He didn’t move to set it going again. “I do, but I wanted to get home faster. I didn’t think taking shortcuts would…” He gestured with the saw, a wild sheen touching his features. “Would cause this!”

An understatement, thought Arna. The older man hadn’t been thinking about anything. He had been so agitated in his rush that the others could have disappeared and he probably wouldn’t have noticed or cared, as long as it didn’t slow him down.

“One of you could have been badly hurt,” the warrior said, tone stern as her fingers gripped fur tighter. “Without Arna, your ‘shortcut’ could have killed someone.”

Three sets of eyes snapped to the saber. “Arna?” Ruben exclaimed in a hissing voice barely escaping through clenched teeth. “That is Arna?!”

Magna’s knuckles bled white on the horse’s rope, now stood by its side and holding the animal steady as it pawed uneasily at the ground, irises rolling. The chainsaw jumped in Eduard’s tense grip, the bags hanging on his body shifting and rustling on top of rigid shoulders as he repositioned his weight. He put one foot in front of the other.

“I expected raiders or crazies even, not damned bears and definitely not monsters,” he said.

Crazies. Jaako had also mentioned them, but their caravan had only passed by other travellers and traders, avoiding any packs of raiders in the dim of night. Who were these ‘crazies’?

Neri stiffened, releasing her grip on Arna’s fur and limping a step forwards, blossoming bruises straining against the movement as she tried to use her body to block the view of the huge saber behind her. Arna sensed the atmosphere shift, tempering from fear to irate hostility. The air grew heavy and suffocating as the warrior and older man faced each other, glaring and silently challenging.

“Are you even from the Warrior’s Guild?” Eduard finally asked.

Blood dripped from her fingertips as Neri dropped her peace-offering hand, the other now resting on the hilt of her sword but not yet drawing it.

“You know full well I am,” she managed to retort, somehow her voice still sounding civil and calm despite the edge of anger.

“Do I?” Eduard scoffed. “I thought I knew that a warrior and her companion were escorting us safely home, but I was clearly mistaken. Instead, I see a woman with a sword and a hellish monster.”

“Monster?” A scowl flashed across Neri’s face before emotionless serenity smoothed her features once more. “Arna protected you from a bear after you stormed into her territory, heedless of any dangers that may come with traversing unknown shortcuts.”

Ruben started to slowly disentangle himself from the roots he had buried himself in, wide eyes flitting back and forth between those he followed and those he feared. Bolstered by Eduard’s sudden sneery confidence, the man took a step towards them with his studded bat now rigid in hand.

“She is from the Warrior’s Guild,” he murmured, coming to stand at Eduard’s shoulder. “I checked with the gate guards.”

The older man snorted, fake courage making him arrogant even though his heart raced and his legs shook. “Still doesn’t explain that.” He lifted the chainsaw and stabbed it towards Arna in a raucous of jumbled cogs.

Neri’s jaw clenched. “My – our – job is ensuring you arrive home safely. Not once has that changed or been in jeopardy due to our own actions. Regardless of what you think, I honour my word.”

“How can I trust the word of a monster and its keeper?”

The warrior’s composure slipped, hand fully grasping the hilt but not yet unsheathing her sword. Her stance shifted, pained legs wide and grounded, fury rippled in her voice and her green eyes darkened beneath furrowed brows. “There is no monster here, except for your indignantly closed mind.”

The chainsaw roared to life, rumbling in a screeching throttle as Eduard’s bones shuddered along with it. “Will you murder your charges, warrior? Will you lead us to death by your own hand? Or shall you feed us to your monster?”

The sword pulled up, blade gleaming in the light flittering down from the forest canopy and Arna awoke from her stupor, taking one large stride forwards to stand between warrior and men, the faraway gaze lifted from her eyes as they glowed dangerous amber. “That’s enough,” she snarled, her voice grating in her throat.

Ruben flew back and Eduard’s confidence shattered, stumbling as his grip trembled on his weapon. Air gasped from Magna’s lungs, the horse panicking in place with the woman somehow still maintaining a white-knuckled grip on its rope.

Crimson still bled from her neck, the skull still stained, the saber still ever so imposing, and yet she merely stood between them all. She took no threatening stance and let no further growl echo from her chest, she blinked away the animosity in her gaze and lowered her haunches, sitting serenely within the tree’s guttered roots.

“Enough,” she repeated, tone hoarse and stuttering on throaty gravel. “Put your weapons away. There’s no point in fighting.”

Ruben swallowed, his bat shaking just as hard as his hands. “E-Eduard?”

The older man watched her, eyes trailing along her dark fur and bloodied body, pausing on the unnatural glow and the sharp points of fang and claw. He took in her size and the strange patience of her gaze, how she simply sat and waited for the judgment to fall, how Neri relinquished her grasp on her sword, unease still heavy on her expression yet the anger gone. He let the chainsaw die out once more.

“No,” he finally said, voice cracking. “No, there is no point. I know who would win.”

“You don’t need to trust us,” Neri told him. “But let us finish our job. Please.”

He hoisted the chainsaw up onto his back, hooking it alongside his cargo. “I won’t take that into Visaf.”

Arna sighed. “You won’t have to. I will keep my distance.”

Neri’s hand touched her shoulders, returning to sink into the thick fur, soothing the shapeshifter’s own thundering heart despite the tranquil control she was trying to show.

“If you betray us, I’ll make sure the guild learns of your treachery,” Eduard warned.

“You misunderstand what type of person I am,” the warrior replied, flicking off the blood from her fingertips.

He snatched the studded bat from Ruben’s stubborn grip, stuffing it into the bald man’s bags so it stuck out behind his head like a barbed flag. “Let’s hope so.”

Eduard resumed the walk through the forest, now following the known path with Ruben hot on his heels. Magna shoved the horse with her own body, forcing it to stumble to one side before she led it onwards in a sweeping route around and out of the fissure. She glared at Arna, something akin to mortified contempt twisting her features, as if she recognized that her instinct had been correct all along, that Arna was plain wrong and her trust in her restless horse was right.

The caravan disappeared amongst the trees and undergrowth. A thud and Neri was crouched before her, hands deep in fur as arms wrapped around the saber’s shoulders, enveloping her without touching the wounds at her throat. The woman’s cheek rested against the stained alabaster of bone, her breath hitching as tears threatened to fall but she blinked them away.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Arna watched the woman’s face, how the serene yet tough composure dropped away to reveal the truth – the vulnerability and the naked hope. She was beautiful, and for such a strong woman to trust Arna enough to lower her guard like this was an honour the shapeshifter would cherish.

“I’ve done nothing deserving thanks,” she said.

Neri laughed; a single sad laugh that barely glimmered a smile. “That could have gone so much worse.”

Arna hummed a gravelly noise in agreement. “But it didn’t.” She nudged the warrior, gently pushing her face away. “Now, go and escort them home.”

Neri stood, groaning slightly as aching and bruised muscles complained. “And you?”

“I’ll follow in the shadows. I’m good at that.” When Neri didn’t say anything nor make a move to leave, she added, “I’ll find you once the job is done, don’t worry.”

Fingertips grazed bone, caressing beneath her eyes, before the cool touch fell away as Neri began to follow her charges. “I’ll see you tonight,” she promised with a soft, genuine smile.

Arna nodded, but then quietly called after her, “Neri, don’t trust them. They’re still afraid and Eduard is…angry and stubborn.”

The warrior turned, climbing out of the fissure to stand by the tall trees above. “Oh, I know. Don’t worry.”

Arna lightly scoffed, a humoured noise returned with a wink as Neri too disappeared farther into the forest. Only when the caravan’s steps quietened and she could no longer discern their whispered words did Arna rise. She shook herself, blood flying out from her throat in a tornado of red that splashed against the forest’s brown debris and soil. It was already drying, the gashes torn open by the bear already starting to stitch themselves closed. By tomorrow she should be able to transform without reopening the wounds in a painful mess. For now, she had to trail after the trio and Neri, listening and watching out for dangers both outside and in – raiders and beasts still could stumble across them, and the caravan riddled with mistrust and fear was as much a threat as a loot-hungry party of killers.

She let the shadows carry her in Neri’s footsteps, great paws padding against shifted dirt and tracing footprints within crumpled leaves and muddied branches.

The sun began its descent when the caravan found its destination, cheers and yells announcing its arrival as families reunited and supplies were already shared and traded. Arna waited on the outskirts of the village, noting how generations were both old and young with very few in between. Grizzled faces warmed at the caravan’s return while children ran in circles at their feet. Eduard was a single father of three, Ruben a husband of a pregnant but frail woman, and Magna stole herself away to the stables housing her horse and some goats. No wonder the older man had been desperate to get home; you could count on one hand how many youthful adults populated Visaf and those included the caravan’s members. A stiff wind could end the old and the young, destroying the families led by elderly caretakers or single parents looking after their dead friend’s children along with their own.

Arna cast her appraisal wider. Visaf may have been small and weak, but the mountain and the forest provided plentiful food, crops from a forgotten time still tended to decades in the future. The mountain villages had the power to trade for everything they required, but they were in the middle of nowhere with no real protection and the arrival of new supplies were months apart, if not years.

The saber stopped watching. Neri was in no real danger. Sure, the trio were eclipsed with swirling emotions of mistrust, fear, even betrayal and anger as confusion snared their racing hearts, but the village meant everything to them. Eduard had already proven himself willing to sacrifice common sense and vigilance to return home. They would not risk losing anything or anyone else by pushing on the wrong buttons in a situation so ill-balanced.

Nightfall welcomed the saber as she patrolled the village perimeter. Animals knew to avoid human bases, keeping to their own land as they should do too. She could see the white cloud of her breath billow out in front of her nose as the chill grew sterner, the altitude already dusting the highest canopies with glistening frost as the night froze the ground below.

“Arna?” a quiet voice asked the shadows.

“I’m here,” she replied. The warrior had left Visaf and walked in the dark until the village was merely a glow of torches in the distance. Arna found her hidden behind a tree with her back pressed against the trunk, their bags dropped at her feet with Arna’s cloak wrapped around herself. “You should stay the night, it’s cold out here.”

Neri blindly reached out and Arna moved her head to touch skull to palm. The cut on Neri’s hand had been cleaned and roughly bandaged. “I’ve outstayed my welcome and I don’t want to push my luck.”

The woman eased herself down to the ground and Arna followed her, curling her body around Neri and resting her head on the woman’s legs. Neri leaned into her, repositioning her sword at her waist so it didn’t jab uncomfortably into either of them, almost hanging over the saber’s back and rubbing her face into the fur at her shoulders.

“I’ll wake you before dawn,” the shapeshifter murmured, knowing that her low voice rumbled audibly in her chest straight into Neri’s ear. “Rest while you can.”

“Are you okay?” the warrior asked, fingers brushing through fur in soothing movements.

Arna hummed. “I can shift tomorrow; the wounds are already healing.”

“That’s good, but I didn’t mean just that.”

The saber closed her eyes.

“You’re not a monster, Arna.”

She opened them again and found green eyes watching her in the dark. “I know.” Did she? No, not really – but she knew Neri didn’t see her as one and that was enough for her. “Now, go to sleep.”

“You’ll be here?” Neri whispered, her voice already losing strength as exhaustion swept over her.

“Of course,” she whispered back. “Goodnight, moyo solnyshko.”