Spice and Wolf - Volume 13 - Chapter 3

THE WOLF AND THE SILVER SIGH

Looking back, she had come quite a distance from the wagon.

Teasing the family of hares had been good fun, but evidently she had gotten carried away. She gave the sash about her waist a flutter, smiling at the hares as if to say, “Playtime’s over!” Whereupon the doe and kit looked at each other, then hopped off about their business.

“Now then,” she said and began to return to her own den. It was a strange den, though—made of iron and wood, wheeled, and pulled behind a horse.

Occasionally it was filled with goods, but at the moment it was carrying little of note, which made it most pleasant. When the wagon was too heavily loaded, it was cramped and uncomfortable, and when it carried nothing, it was too cold.

But with enough space between the wooden crates, canvas could be stretched between them, enclosing the space and making it quite cozy, as well as serving as good protection from the wind. Then some grain sacks for pillows and plenty of blankets to curl up under, and she could lie there and count the planks in the crates or look up at the sky.

Today the weather was fine, which meant the blankets would be delightfully warm. Just imagining it was enough to make her yawn, especially given that she’d just eaten her midday meal.

Human mouths had their troublesome cheeks and were thus a bit cramped, but only humans could raise their arms to stretch while they yawned.

Though she could not help feeling that the wolf body, to which she’d become accustomed over the centuries was her true form, she did not dislike her human form, though it came with some inconveniences. After all, her human form came with the queer human habit of wearing their decorations. While a wolf might give some consideration to her own coat, that hardly compared with human activities.

To put it in wolf terms, it was like being able to change the color of her fur every morning, depending on her mood. How could that be anything but delightful?

But of course her greatest delight was in showing her many looks to someone and seeing their reactions.

And to that end, her traveling companion was second to none. A muffler and a robe was all it took to elicit a great fuss.

If there was a problem, it was that these decorations cost money. She felt it something of a disgrace for her, a wisewolf, to worry about human money, but given that she was traveling in human form with a human, it could not be helped.

Moreover, her companion was a traveling merchant and was tiresomely attached to his money. Even the stop at this very field, which he had said was because of the pleasant weather and the need to stop for the midday meal, was obviously for some other reason as well.

He had been distracted the previous evening, and when she had spoken to him, he had given only vague replies. Only minutes ago during their meal, his gaze was off in the distance, as it had been the whole while, and he had not even noticed her steal two separate pieces of cheese.

As for what her companion was thinking about, it seemed to be the coins and pelts they had seen in town.

There was an exhausting variety of both coins and pelts that circulated in the human world, and evidently the rates of exchange between them were a cause of great concern. To wit: Black pelts could be traded for silver coins, and those white-silver coins exchanged for brown pelts, which would be traded for red-copper coins, which could be used to purchase black pelts again, but at a profit.

To that end, he had been tallying figures ever since the previous night.

She knew that money was necessary to travel in the human world, as it was necessary for everything else, and as her companion was traveling first and foremost to make money, she had little cause to complain.

Far from it—when she regarded her pathetically toiling companion, she could not bring herself to ask him to buy her something that they could not even eat.

Still, it made her tail puff up a bit to see him still off in his own world, not even noticing that she’d returned to the wagon.

“Come now, how long must we stay here?” she said, spreading her blanket out. Her harsh tone seemed to do the job, as her companion finally looked up from the wooden plank. He seemed not to have eaten properly and was scratching figures into a wooden slate that had been coated with wax.

“Mm…oh, look at the hour.” No matter the place, it was a trick of humans that they all seemed to be able to tell the time with a quick glance at the sky.

He hastily packed up his board and writing stick, his mouth filled with bread.

He seemed not to have noticed the two pieces of cheese that had been stolen and eaten.

“Are you finished with your walk?” asked her companion rather suddenly as she arranged the blanket on the planks and made ready to curl up under it. She had been so certain he had taken no notice of her, but apparently he had.

“I suppose ’twould have made you uneasy if I’d gone too far.”

Her companion laughed easily, and the sight of his foolish smile made her want (rather maliciously) to truly vanish for a time and see how he liked that.

His foolishness was like that of a cat that is terrified of water but tries to catch fish anyway. “No matter how far you might roam, you’d always come back as soon as your belly was empty,” was his reply.

It would have been ridiculous to be angry at him, so she merely smiled. At this, her foolish companion grinned proudly, as though he was quite sure he had gotten the better of her.

She deserved praise for letting him stray so far.

“Well, then, I’ll harness the horse and we’ll be on our way.” Her companion climbed down from the driver’s seat and approached the horse, that had been loosed.

She held her chin in her hands and rested her elbows on the wagon bed’s edge and watched him. Her companion—he was a kind and timid man but could sometimes be prideful and overconfident.

He prized money above all but his own life, sometimes bizarrely so. And yet when one might expect him to be miserly with the money he earned, he could be strangely generous, at which she always found her tail wagging.

Her companion had a tendency to believe she could be wooed with food, but regardless of how good those humans were at cooking, she wondered if he truly considered that a wisewolf such as herself could always be distracted by food?

The notion that she would return simply because she was hungry—how absurd!

She would return because she did not relish the notion of eating alone, and she wagged her tail out of pleasure that he saw fit to spend his precious coin on her, that was all.

“Fool.”

Her companion’s horse was eating field grass, and he shook his head in irritation at it, tugging it this way and that. Yet he still fancied himself a cool, collected wolf among humans, which struck her as very funny indeed. “He’s but a sheep,” she murmured to herself and rested her cheek on the wagon bed’s edge.

There in the still sunlight, she watched her foolish companion. She had no dissatisfaction, nor any complaints.

A smile played about her lips in spite of herself and grew wider as she realized her own silliness. “Perhaps I’m the fool, after all,” she murmured in amusement, dropping her gaze to the ground.

And then—there, between the blades of grass, was something strange.

“What’s that?”

She leaned over to look at it, but still could not quite make it out. Finally she got out of the wagon bed and picked it up. It was a beast’s head rendered in metal and hung about a leather cord.

“What is this?” she murmured, peering at it, then heard the voice of her companion.

“Easy, easy!” The horse, evidently enjoying its rare freedom, seemed displeased at this interruption.

She met his dark black eyes and caught there a flicker of spite. But the horse would have had any number of chances to run away had he wanted to. In other words, he was just having some fun at her companion’s expense.

Well, it served him right.

“Come, don’t buck like that! Yes, fine, I see how it is…there we go.”

Her companion was used to this, though, and quickly harnessed the horse back up to the wagon while murmuring soothing words.

It was quite charming to see a usually perfect person suddenly act foolish, but not nearly as so to see a foolish person show surprising skill.

But when the horse gave her companion a long-suffering nudge with his nose, said companion was back to his usual self.

“Honestly…well, then, let’s be off. Er…what is it?”

He seemed to have thought she had already curled up under the blankets in the wagon. She was about to ask him about the item she had picked up, but decided to think on it for a while first, and in the end said nothing.

She gave a vague reply, then climbed up one of the wheels and into the wagon bed.

Her companion seemed unworried. He climbed back into the driver’s seat, took up the reins, and started the cart moving forward. Their journey resumed.

In the gently swaying bed, she curled up atop the blankets and again inspected the item she’d retrieved.

All sorts of metals and gems she had never heard of circulated in the human world, but of the metals she was familiar with, this seemed to be lead. It was about the size of the last joint of her thumb and seemed to depict the head of a dog, a fox, or perhaps a clumsily rendered wolf.

It must have been made quite a long time in the past, as it was well rounded and many of the finer details had blackened. Yet the feeling of long use made it, if anything, a more fascinating piece.

This particular wisewolf found such objects suited her better than newer, shinier ones. And given that this one was already so conveniently fastened to a leather cord, the notion of putting it on just to see her companion’s reaction had a certain appeal.

Thinking as much, she first tried putting it around her wrist, but the cord was too long for that, and it did not look quite right, either. Then she considered putting it around her neck, but the pouch of wheat was already there.

She was trying to work out how to wear it when the thought finally came to her.

Since humans fastened their hair with all manner of ties, would it be so strange for a wolf to do likewise with the most splendid bit of her coat? Surely not. The cord was a mite too long, but with a bit of adjustment she got it secured nicely.

The lead device was only about the size of her thumb, so it did not look bad at all.

Tying a leather cord around her tail—such a notion would never have occurred to her in either the wilds or the wheat fields without the influence of humans.

She stood, spinning around like a puppy and chasing the adornment affixed about the middle of her tail. “Ooh-hu-hu-hu,” she giggled, her face breaking into a smile from the pleasure of this unexpected find.

“Oh, that’s right. There was something I wanted to ask you about,” her companion said from the driver’s seat.

He turned around. There was no chance for her to hide how she was curled around her own tail, admiring it.

But given that she had planned to show it to him anyway, she merely turned to face her stunned companion and waved her tail proudly. “What say you? Not bad, eh?”

She put her hand on her hips and twirled, doing her best imitation of the dancing town lasses she had seen on their travels.

Her companion’s gaze remained fixed on her tail. He seemed to be at a loss for words. “It’s, er, nice, but…”

But? Was he too abashed to simply admit how nice it looked that he had to add some sort of qualification? How adorable! she thought.

“Where did you get that?” her companion continued.

“Hmm? I picked it up over yonder.” She regarded the piece again. It really did suit her well. Its nearly black-gray had a lovely presence amid her dark brown, white-tufted fur.

She wagged her tail, and her companion regarded her with a strange expression for a while before merely saying, “Ah,” then turning to face forward again. This from her companion, who lost his composure if she so much as cocked her head in the manner of a town girl!

Surely this was proof of just how thoroughly the adornment suited her.

She sighed through her nose, then hopped up into the driver’s seat. “So, what was it you wished to ask me?” Owing to the height difference, she had to look up at him to ask.

When in wolf form, she looked down on most creatures. Perhaps because of that, she had initially found looking up to feel rather subordinate, but lately she had come to enjoy it a certain amount.

And if her companion was going to be elusive, so much the better.

She stifled any sort of grin and simply looked up at him like an innocent pup. Her companion glanced over at her, trying to hide his obvious fluster.

If there was anything she looked forward to as much as mealtime, it was this.

She beamed at him, and he cleared his throat nervously before finally speaking. “Ahem. Er, no, it’s not anything of importance, but…” As he talked, he glanced at her tail. “The town we were in until yesterday—about the quality of the furs there…”

“Mm.”

Evidently he wanted to broach the subject of profit.

But when her companion made a profit, she was able to eat tasty things, which was always a fine thing. She felt no particular need to flatter him, but if she was going to travel with him anyway, she might as well do so with a smile.

Now she, too, cleared her throat, giving him an indulgent look. “Mm.”

At this, her companion began to pepper her with questions about the quality of this or that pelt. Humans, for their part, judged the fineness of a pelt with their eyes and hands, but she was able to divine the quality on the spot, with no more than a sniff from her nose.

As she answered him, explaining that this one was fine and that one was not, she saw her companion’s attention very clearly shift from her, then and there, to his memories of the goods they had seen.

When she had answered his last question, he did not so much as thank her, instead simply sinking into silence.

How rude, she thought, but could not bring herself to despise her companion’s too-serious face. Feeling a little put out, she watched his profile. He seemed to think of something and reached back into the wagon bed.

He placed the waxed board with its tallies and figures scrawled all over it on his knee, and after murmuring something to himself, suddenly exclaimed, “Yes! I knew it!”

Humans, with their bad noses and bad ears, tended to have the unpleasant habit of shouting too loudly.

She was not the only one surprised; the horse was startled, too. Her companion, though, took no notice of this, and he roughly tossed the writing board back into the wagon and took up the reins. He pulled on them to stop the horse.

“…What is it?” she asked, rubbing her still-stinging ears like a cat would. Her companion’s face was tiresomely cheerful.

“There’s a gap in the marketplace. We can make some real money!”

As he turned the wagon around to head back the way they had come, he looked like a pup too young to have all of his teeth yet.

Having spent so much time with a merchant, she had grown to understand the basics of commerce. But she still wondered how a series of buying and selling that ended up with the same goods they started with could possibly turn a profit.

According to her companion, it could.

“You’ll be despised if you bring out a mountain of small coins to pay for an expensive item, and if you try to buy a small thing with a high-value coin, it’s the same thing. So people use coins appropriate for the various goods they’re buying. But sometimes furs are simply exchanged for furs, and the same goes for coins. So—”

“So in all that exchange, sometimes there are places where they aren’t equivalent, aye?”

“That’s right. I’ve calculated it over and over, and there’s no mistaking it. By doing nothing more than buying and selling in town, we can make twenty, maybe even thirty percent. It’s a grand opportunity!”

That might well have been true, but her companion’s excitement was dampening her own. And she had yet to be properly complimented on the tail adornment she had so cleverly put on.

But of course, her companion was unable to pay attention to more than one thing at once. She really could not expect too much from him.

They entered the town’s walls they had only just left that morning. It was just as crowded as it had always been, and looking at the crowd, she could not help but wonder if her companion had truly considered whether out of all these people, not a single one had noticed the gap he thought he had discovered.

Of course, no matter the endeavor, both successes and failures were common. At the very least, she had to admit that her companion had brought her on adventures the likes of which she had nearly forgotten after so long.

Watching him glance here and there in his impatience to begin trading was quite amusing. But then—no sooner had they stabled the horse than her companion looked to her and spoke.

“Now then, would you go and wait for me in the tavern?”

“Wha…?” she said, frozen in place. She had been certain that she would be going along with him, to sniff out the quality of the pelts and to listen to the sounds of the coins, that for a moment she honestly thought she was being teased.

“I’ll be going to shops all over the town. With these crowds, I think you’d hate being dragged this way and that, wouldn’t you?”

Unfair, she thought. If she was going to be such a burden for him to bring along, he could at least say so. But he obviously did not want to bring her, so when he said, “…Wouldn’t you?” how could she reply but to agree?

Only merchants were so skilled at exploiting the difference between inward intention and outward expression to manipulate things for their own ends. Her companion did this quite frequently, though he was not particularly aware of it.

“Aye, I suppose not,” she said, faking a vague smile, not bothering to hide her irritation from her companion. But he seemed to misunderstand and patted her head as though she were a pup.

He probably thought she was merely pouting at being left alone. And would he even now think her to be holding his reins?

He was an exasperating fool, but even then she found his confident smile so charming—so perhaps he was not the biggest fool.

“Still, I don’t suppose you’ll have me wait there without any means,” she said. Her companion’s arm looked thin, but it felt surprisingly sturdy as she took it.

He shot her his most sour look, but in the end, he gave her a single shiny silver piece. Evidently, he was confident in his current prospects.

“Don’t use it all.”

She did not bother to remind him that it would not have cost him a single copper had he only brought her along.

In truth, her companion probably had not had the time to leisurely take her around with him, because here in this walled town, the ringing of the bells marked the strict beginning and end of the day.

The ringing of this bell marked the opening of the market; the ringing of that bell meant the craftsmen could take their break. It was a spectacle, as though the whole town danced to the beat of the same drum. From her vantage point out of a second-story window of the inn, bottle of wine in hand, the rhythmic impression she got was particularly strong.

When she thought about it that way, her companion—who journeyed across the land, making his living with nothing but his wagon and his wits, beholden only to the movements of the sun and the moon—was unmistakably among the freest of humans.

Freedom and strength flowed from the same spring. Despite his foolishness and softheartedness, his belief in his own abilities gave him a mysteriously attractive strength.

She thought back on the memories of their journey together thus far, but this did not do much to soothe her frustration with being left behind—or rather, perhaps it was failing to quiet her anger.

With just a single silver coin to spend, she was forced into the corner of an open-fronted tavern. With night yet to fall, the only patrons were a few indolent travelers, along with some withered regulars, drying like fish in the sun. And even with them, there were not many there, so Holo wound up in one corner of the tavern, lazily watching the swirl of foot traffic stream by in front of the place.

Worse, she had not even had time to change clothes, so she was still dressed as what the humans called a nun.

Thanks to that, whenever anyone passed near her table, every single one of them said the same thing as they left her a small coin: “God’s blessing be upon you.”

Then they would put their hands together or occasionally seek to take hers in greeting, then return to their own table.

Despite how much she hated being worshipped, she found this particular form of respect paying so foolish she could not even be angry at it.

She ate her beans and sipped her wine in order to drown the occasional tears that her great yawns squeezed out.

Thinking of the times her foolish companion’s business plans had not gone well, she had ordered sour wine of notably poor quality.

It was bad enough to keep her awake and bad enough to keep her mind on her anger at having been left alone. She was wiping a lingering drop from her lips with an irritated finger flick when a familiar figure entered her field of vision.

On his back was a great load of pelts, and he was walking straight ahead and purposefully, without so much as a sideways glance.

The look in his eyes was the one he had when things were going well.

Her companion seemed not to realize that whenever things were going his way, he wore an expression that made it obvious he thought he was being cool and collected. Likewise, whenever things went poorly, the desperation with which he fought back panic was also easy to see. He was always trying to keep his thoughts to himself.

Was the only time he was truly calm while he slept? Seeing him serene was so rare that she sometimes stayed up at night to watch him, just to see his quiet expression. She wondered what he would say if he knew.

He would probably become too self-conscious to sleep.

And yet that in and of itself was rather charming, she thought—and then realized she was out of wine.

Without anyone to talk to, it was all too easy to empty one’s cup.

She raised her cup in the air and ordered another round from the bored-looking tavern keeper.

Her companion came out of the swirl of humanity and entered her quiet little corner of the world, but only after passing by several times.

Having had nothing but the bad wine, her stomach had gotten sour, too, so she told him not to say a thing until he had ordered her some cheese or bread, about which he offered not a whit of complaint.

Rather, he wore a wide and satisfied smile. She would not have been surprised if he had scooped her up in his arms and nuzzled her with his face.

“I love the feeling of outsmarting everyone around me!” he said, pinching her cheek.

He was in high spirits indeed. And yet, he did not produce the requested coin, which was very like him.

“Just so long as you aren’t caught at it.”

“I’ll be long gone before anyone catches me.”

Given the adventures they’d had so far, it was comically rash for him to say such things, but it was pleasant to see him brimming with such confidence. Finally, he smiled and presented his winnings.

It was true, though—from the gradually increasing loads of fur on his back as he had traveled back and forth, she could tell he had been profiting.

Greater profit required greater capital.

She remembered the words from a previous misfortune, and surely the reason he had asked her to judge the quality of the pelts he started with was to understand the amount he stood to lose if things went poorly.

It was a sickening level of care, but it arose from his usual habits.

The way he observed and interacted with her, carefully and dispassionately, was the best example of this. It was conservative, even mercenary. If he ended up being unreliable when she truly needed him, she ought to give him a view of the dust she would kick up as she left him behind, but unfortunately doing so would tip her own hand, which hardly seemed fair.

And yet, he was often so courageous and bold. Such a troublesome fellow he was.

Such thoughts chased themselves through her head as she drained her cup. She was unsure how many she’d had. The cup seemed to empty itself so quickly she wondered if it had a hole in the bottom, and she turned it over to check. She was shocked by the sudden appearance of someone’s foot in her vision. Evidently her senses had been somewhat dulled by the wine.

She looked up and saw her delighted companion. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.

“Success!” He plopped himself down, his coin purse full to bursting. “Though some others caught on to what I was doing, so the profit dropped a bit. We all pulled just before we would’ve been ruined, though.”

Having sat himself down in a chair, her companion ordered wine, and as soon as it came, he drained half the cup in a single go, then sighed a happy sigh.

She could tell from the smell of his pride that he had done quite a bit of running around.

“I’d say we should drink a toast, but you’re a bit too drunk for that,” he said with a wry smile.

She was so overcome with the desire to show her displeasure that she brought her empty cup to her lips.

“Let’s have some tastier wine tomorrow. We’ll pass tonight at an inn. Ah, it’s nice to make money,” said her companion happily, draining the remnants of his cup.

No doubt he was sincerely happy. And faced with that smile of his, she could not help but smile herself.

“We ought to retire for the evening. Can you walk?”

She took the offered hand with a fondness as though it was the first offer in centuries, and all the hotter for her drunkenness. A warm sleepiness pervaded her as though soaking into her head.

Though it was shameful of a wisewolf to do so, as her companion paid up, her sleepiness drove her to hang on him like a grumpy pup.

“Steady now. We only have to go as far as the inn.”

The more he told her to be steady or asked if she were all right, the more wobbly the ground beneath her seemed.

She let herself be taken by the hand like a child, and they went out into the twilight town.

Sound flooded her ears, and even with her eyes mostly closed, she could discern the town’s state: People talking, animals braying, things clattering against one another or scraping against the ground.

And amid this cacophony, it was the sound of her companion’s heartbeat that was of special note.

Or perhaps that was her own heart, she mused.

The ambiguity was strangely comfortable. Her gait was light, and all she thought of was her companion’s hand as he led her along.

If only this moment could last forever.

She shook the thought away—absurd! And then at that very moment—

“What do you mean you can’t buy these pelts?!” someone shouted, bringing her back to herself in a flash.

“I mean we can’t buy them. We’ve gotten word from the guild that someone’s been going around using furs as part of some strange scheme. We can’t buy any more until we hear more.”

“What nonsense is that?!”

In a town as noisy as this one, no one had time to stop and take notice of a single shout. But her companion, who had just made such a fine profit on furs, certainly did.

“That was close,” said her companion, looking at her and grinning.

She could not help thinking that this was what happened as soon as things went well, but still she smiled at him, sharing the perverse pleasure of keeping his secret.

But it seemed the merchants, who were now facing a crisis, would not endure this treatment. “Call out the guild chief!” one finally shouted, pounding on the counter.

At this, people finally started to stop walking and peer in the direction of the commotion. Another merchant with a great pile of pelts on his back began to rage, but it seemed like an act. It was probably a ploy to raise enough of a fuss to force the purchase of his furs. Her companion had done the same thing himself not infrequently—merchants could be surprisingly adaptable.

She watched, quite impressed with the display.

“Let’s go.” Having gotten away with his scheme, her companion pulled on her hand. His face was tense; even as he made off with his gains, he could not bear to watch as others faced loss.

He was a fool, but a kind fool at least. She started to walk as the thought occurred to her, pulled along by her companion. Then—

“Look! They carry the seal of Dene Allbrook. What nonsense is this, that you can’t buy them?” said the merchant, taking a bundle of pelts out of his pile and brandishing it over his head. The merchant having such demands made of him looked troubled. No doubt the seal in question was proof of something.

As she had come to understand while watching her companion work, humans often used a thing called “trust.” It was very common for them to buy and receive items from people they had never met, so such a thing was crucial. If that merchant had something that ought to have earned him trust and yet he was still being turned down, no wonder he was angry.

Things seemed to be getting rowdy, she thought, and tried to see, but her companion hastily pulled her by her hand and stopped her, then froze in his tracks—but not out of sympathy for the merchant.

The bundle of furs the man was holding up—there was something familiar affixed to the leather strap that held them together. It stood out amid the red-brown furs, a spot of dark silver.

Her companion pulled on her hand even more firmly, but she resisted, looking back over her shoulder, then down at her own tail underneath her robe. Then she looked back up again at the enraged merchant and finally realized that the metal piece on his bundle and the one she’d put on her tail were one and the same.

Worse, the pelts bundled and marked thus were fox furs of no great quality, the hair scruffy and dry.

She could feel very distinctly the sweat that began to break out on her companion’s palm. In no time at all, the truth of their conversation on the wagon became very clear to her.

Her companion had not been disturbed by how well the tail adornment she had found had suited her. It was because putting it on her tail marked her own fur as a fox pelt ready for sale.

Could there be anything more foolish in the whole wide world than a wolf who attached a price tag to her own fur? And how much more of a fool had she been, to assume her companion’s fluster was because of how good it looked?

But that was not the only thing that angered her.

There was also her companion’s attitude then, and now, before her very eyes.

He had obviously been trying to keep her from this, even as she had foolishly put a price tag on her own tail and been so delighted by it. Even now, he was still trying to protect her as he pulled on her hand. No doubt that was why he had not brought her along on his town errands and also why he had been so disturbed when he had looked at her from the driver’s seat of the wagon. He had probably been thinking the best way to avoid a shipwreck was not to rock the boat. And now that everything had been revealed, he simply stood there mutely. It was very clear.

She knew perfectly well that he had not been silently laughing at her and that none of this had been done out of malice.

And yet—and still, that a wisewolf should act such a fool!

She did not know how many times she had found human cheeks to be troublesome things, but just this once she was grateful for them, for they hid her raging fangs. Or if not for that, for the convenience of being able to fake many other expressions.

“Um, look—”

But just as her companion wrung some tortured words from what little wisdom he possessed, she let go of his sweaty palm and clung tightly to his arm. Just as she had seen town girls do, she nuzzled her face against it, pressing her whole body against his.

She could feel him freeze. He was surely remembering the times he had been attacked by wild dogs in the wilderness.

But she was not a wild dog. She was Holo the Wisewolf.

She looked up at him. “So, then, how fine is the traveling merchant I’ve wrapped about my arm?” she said, a great smile on her face.

“Wait, you—”

“You earned a tidy sum, didn’t you? I cannot wait to see what wine you will treat me to in celebration!”

If pressed on who was more at fault, it was probably she who bore the greater portion. But there were some things she could not pass up.

Her companion seemed to find this more than a little unreasonable, but after gazing at her with a pained expression, he finally nodded.

Some things could not be passed up. For example, the chance to hold hostage to her own selfishness a merchant so clever he had outsmarted this whole bustling town.

It was absurd, she thought. And yet she could not stop.

And anyway, as he heaved a sigh and began to trudge along, her companion’s profile did not look entirely displeased.

She clung to his arm, as though to show the whole world that this wisewolf was the only one who understood his true worth.

She knew it was foolish, but it felt only appropriate for someone like her, who would happily fix a price tag to her own tail. Yes—it was only appropriate.

End.