“You’re going to,” Faol said, calmly. Orfeus looked at him sharply, wondering what he was implying. Was he going to force her to somehow hunt Linden down here in Tinctora anyway, use her local knowledge, be seen by all and sundry as her fox-masked and complicit self?

Faolan cocked his head. “Right?” she said. “It’s a friend. You’re going to say whatever soothing lies you think I’m likely to believe, and then as soon as you can, you’re going to find them in your own time. Not to turn them in, just to find them. Yes?”

Orfeus gritted her teeth. She wished the Wolf didn’t somehow read her so well.

Splodge butted its head against her chin. Orfeus lightly kissed it on the head. “He’s just a neighbour,” she said.

Faolan shook his head and walked past her, striding fast, heading back out of town. At least she wouldn’t need to…talk to anyone.

She was meant to like talking to people.

Splodge lay in her arms, a little stiff, but quiet, letting itself be handled. “Guess you’re my cat now,” Orfeus said to it in an undertone. She wasn’t going to just leave it there, hunting down more birds and small creatures than were meant to be predated, and she wasn’t sure anyone else in town was close to Linden. “I’m glad you can hunt for yourself. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

She looked to the side and found Faolan’s eyes on her, and the Wolf quickly looked away. He at least didn’t say anything about her burst of unwise sentimentality.

When they had reached the bikes, as Orfeus tried to figure out how to bring a cat up safely, the Wolf said, “I won’t stand in your way.”

She looked at him, not sure how to take it. Not sure what he was asking for in return. “Thank you,” she said, guardedly. Maybe he just wanted her to grovel a bit, tired of always being the one to kneel.

Apparently no. As she tucked her cloak around Splodge carefully, trying to rig half a harness, he shrugged. “We’re partners,” Faol said. “Wolves aren’t meant to hunt alone.”

Splodge was a warm, comforting presence, even if Orfeus would get extremely clawed on the flight up. “We’re not…” she said, and trailed off. She shook her head and adjusted the straps. Logically, she should use any weapon that would fit in her hand. If Faol’s honour inclined him towards Orfeus’s purpose, she should use him.

It sat badly with her, all the same. Orfeus shook her head, shaking off the discomfort. She couldn’t afford to be precious about morals right now.

“Fine,” Orfeus said like smoke in her mouth, “partner.”