The choices were surprisingly varied. There were even two-storied buildings, although Tove didn't trust most of them to be sturdy. She kicked walls and jumped on floors and swung from wooden beams set into the ceilings in a bizarre test of suitability. Chloe allowed her to determine if a hut was safe, while she focused on which plants were growing through the windows or around the front door. And which would get the best light or had the prettiest carvings.

A mild upset occurred when Tove threw one of the doors closed in one of her 'tests' and accidentally beheaded a morning glory from its vine. She promised to be more careful with nature in the future and tied the poor plant into Chloe's plait as peace offering. Once Chloe had forgiven her, they continued their hunt for the perfect hut. A home for the rest of summer.

Eventually, with the only light available to them coming from tiny lanterns that dotted the streets leading off from the den entrance, they settled on a two-storey, clover-cushioned, tiled-roofed house near the centre of the city, with wooden bannisters carved to look like swirling smoke or water. It was essentially two rooms, one stacked atop the other, with a tiny cupboard-like washroom on the ground floor that held a toilet and a sink. Running water wasn't likely, but there was room to store some certainly. The fireplace was tiny, although they had no need to cook with enormous pots for just the two of them anyway. At least they had a way of keeping the stone structure warm. Chloe smiled at the space. It could be lovely with some intense cleaning and a few furnishings. The windows even held planters out like little balconies, although the earth filling them was dry and cracked. If she had forever, she would grow basil and mint and thyme...

"We have surplus necessities in a store in the den," said Tove, hands on hips in the centre of the downstairs room. Dragged from her daydreams, Chloe leant over the bannister, curious. "There's no sleeping space carved out, but a couple of nights on the floor won't hurt us."

"A sleeping space?" Chloe repeated.

Tove tilted her head, matching her curious expression. "The dip in the ground where you put your bedding."

"A dip?" Chloe had become an echo. She wondered if Tove meant a fire pit.

"It looks like a bowl," Tove explained, acting out a round shape with her hands. "A smooth dent in the ground where your family sleeps. That's where you make your bed, and then we sleep in wolf form all jumbled together."

"Magic folk sleep in beds, and everyone gets their own. Except couples."

Tove nodded her understanding. "There are some wooden beds in the furthest huts but they've gone soft and rotted."

"Ah." Chloe hopped down the remaining stairs, envisioning the comforts of sleeping in a rock-hard bowl.

Tove, as always, did not appear worried. "If you prefer a wooden bed to a sleep space, I'm sure my aunt could build you one."

"That would be wonderful, thank you." She tried not to let her relief out too loudly for fear of offence. There was nothing wrong with the way wolves slept, but her body wasn't built for the floor. Except for when she had Tove's big furry body to cuddle with, then she did just fine. "I don't think she liked me very much, though."

"Oh, not that aunt, her wife." Tove chuckled. "She has a workshop on the Eastern side." She pointed out into the darkness with a smile filled with warm memory.

"What kind of thing does she usually make?"

"Chairs, tables, stools, toys for the children. Aunt Maja builds the frames and Aunt Vilde does the carvings for decoration" She winked before adding, "Vilde is the one who does not like you." It amused Tove, but sunk Chloe's stomach a little.

She shifted the subject along. "And what do your parents do?"

"My father is a teacher, he takes care of the smallest puppies. And my mother prepares and preserves food in our storage caves." Her smile was proud. "What do your parents do?"

"My mother is a volunteer for the night guards with her familiar Nyx." She didn't bother to mention it was a part-time unpaid role, since her mother was quite wealthy enough to spend her time as a lady of leisure. "And my father is a senior scholar, he’s assigned to research projects in order to help progress them." She twiddled with her skirt for a moment. "In a way, our fathers are quite similar - both of them spend their time trying to help others understand things." Her father schooled junior scholars, and Tove's schooled small children. If the roles were reversed, Chloe had no doubt her father would be first to bow out.

"I don't know if your father spends quite as much time helping others clean their noses properly."

They both laughed.

Tove slapped her hands to her flanks. "I will get us some supplies-"

"Food?" Chloe chirped.

"Including food," Tove chuckled. "And be back soon." As she exited the hut, her fingers dragged along Chloe's lower back and she shivered under the touch. Then, she was gone, her grin a gift to the night.

The moment she was out of sight, the darkness seemed much more foreboding. Inside, Tove had found a lamp and hung it from the ceiling, it offered a weak glow that could go out at any moment. Chloe looked between her backpack and the grimy floor a few times... best to wait until they had cleaned up a bit before she unpacked. Her sigh filled the room.

There was so much to do. Not just in here, but amongst the pack. If she could gain favour, show how helpful and nice she was, she could indulge herself in her dream lifestyle. The nature witch ideology surrounded her, but for the moment she was shunned from them. The things she could learn from them, the days she could enjoy out in the wild - yet contained in the safety of the tall walls. It was everything she ever wanted. But it was theirs, and not hers.

To assimilate, she would need to prove she had something to offer. She paced the ground floor. What did she have to offer? She wasn't very proficient at magic, she didn't have much of value on her person, and she couldn't promise anything long-term because she had to leave in six-ish weeks. All she had was enthusiasm and good intentions.

The best place to start would be offering a simple helping hand. Chores, small tasks, the kind of things she could do without biting off more than she could chew. She would rise early and be ready to jump into action-

"-stress might just finish me off." A woman's voice floated in through the open window.

"Oh, don't talk like that!" a second woman scolded. "She's home now, that's what matters."

"And obsessed with a witch!"

"She's of that age to fall in love, it happens."

Chloe blushed at the word ‘love’ and hurriedly patted her face with her cool hands to calm down. Did Tove love her? Or did Tove simply put up with her? She knew if the bond broke, in some freak magical accident, she would have a hard time walking away.

"A witch?"

"Okay, that doesn't happen often. But you had to expect she would find someone to obsess over someday?"

There was a tense pause. Something had been implied or referenced that Chloe wasn't privy to. She strained her ear to the window pane while keeping out of sight.

The second woman added, "It's not fair to restrict her."

Another pause.

The same voice spoke again, another attempt at consolation. "She is the only one who does not get hurt out of this, isn't that what matters? It does not affect you for the witch's heart to break."

Whatever the other woman said in response was too mumbled and too far away for Chloe to catch. They had moved along. She slumped under the window sill, letting her butt meet dust. Maybe they were right: Chloe was in for a broken heart. It was inevitable, they were two different species, of course it wouldn't work. And then she would be the stupid witch with the broken heart.

Bundles of blankets wrapped around a collection of home goods preceded Tove when she returned. Her face popped out from behind the mass of fluff, and her bright smile settled Chloe's concerns.

It was too late to change anything now, the broken heart would simply be the price she had to pay for her time with Tove. Strangely, the thought wasn't so daunting as it probably should be. Tove's excited explanations of all the cosy touches she had procured for their home definitely helped.

As they cleaned the hut from top to bottom with rags and watery soap, Chloe called down through the bannisters, "I think some of your family passed by while you were gone."

Tove’s head bobbed up, eyes alert. “Did they come inside?” She was on all fours, scrubbing the grubby tiles of the ground floor.

Slowing her swiping of her cloth between each rung, Chloe also slowed her words. "No, I just heard them talking as they went by."

"I hope they didn’t say anything rude," Tove said, sounding prematurely apologetic. She sat back on her heels and tossed her rag to the floor in front of her.

"No, no." Chloe pressed her face between the bars and smiled as best she could. "They’re just worried about you. It’s understandable…"

Tove sighed. “I’m sorry for the cold reception, my pack are very protective of me.”

Chloe shrugged. “I understand, families like to fuss.”

Tove hesitated before replying, "Mine more than most." She took up her cleaning again and dropped her gaze. "I wasn’t allowed outside the den until I was a teenager."

"Really?” Chloe blurted. Tove gave a shrug to the floor. “But you seem so… experienced, like you’ve been out in the wild since you were born."

"Most kids get to roam within the walls at least a bit before puberty. And then start going out of our territory as teens. I was only just making it out the walls at sixteen, with so much begging.” She chuckled at the memory.

Chloe shuffled her butt down a few more steps and continued wiping the slots. "Why was it different for you?"

"My family worry more than others." An unusually short answer for Tove.

"But why?"

Tove didn't look up from her work. She was doing a great job - the tiles had shifted from brown to a warm orange-red tone. "They don’t… want to lose out on a minute of me, I guess."

"You’ve got a whole life to live," Chloe reminded her cheerfully."They won’t be lacking in Tove time."

Tove laughed awkwardly but didn't respond, and it hit Chloe that she had read the tone of that conversation very wrong. She shuffled down a few more steps, almost at the same level as her. Tove crawled away in the opposite direction, removing all dirt in her path like a machine.

"I wish I could call my mum," Chloe said, hoping to move on smoothly. "She wouldn’t know what to make of all this, but I haven’t seen her in so long… it would be nice just to hear her voice."

Tove glanced over her shoulder with a curious grin, it flooded Chloe's chest, putting out the burn of shame. "Call her? Like shout?"

Chloe smiled back. "No, through crystals."

"You can shout through crystals?"

"Some of them, but they have to be charmed first. Mine all ran out of charge. I only have crystal shards left, the kind you use in rituals. Those funnel magic, but don’t hold it."

Tove slumped onto her backside to put the full force of her cheeky smile on Chloe. "And how do you charge a calling crystal?"

"Magic," Chloe answered.

"And don’t you have magic?"

"It’s not simple energy, it’s more of a charm. It takes a specialist to do. Not that I’m allowed to use magic in here anyway."

She didn’t mean to sound bitter, she really was grateful for the pack leader’s hospitality, even if it was a little hostile. The only thing to do now was make the best of what she had been offered, and she felt that offer was a chance.

Tove gave her a sad smile and they kept cleaning until they had both broken a sweat. The conversation drifted over simpler topics as they worked, like dinner. They were both very ready for dinner.