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room. The old woman then bid Saure welcome and ushered her toward the tavern.

"Oh, my puma…"
"Not to worry, lass, we'll have some meat scraps taken out to 'im and some fresh water set out. He'll be fine."
"No, you don't understand. He's my..." she stopped herself from saying "friend," "He's my protection in these strange parts. I would prefer it if he stayed by my side."
"Oh, dear lass," the old woman croaked a laugh. "we cannat have a large beast like that roaming the tavern! Lest he scare the customers hence! Won't do, won't do. Have yerself a seat, me fine lass. I'll bring ye some mead." She practically shoved the girl into an old cushioned chair, and hobbled off to the pantry. Saure frowned after her, lip jutting with incredulity.

She set her gunna on a nearby table, pulling out her tome parcel and unwrapping it with delicate care. She flipped to the section on fauna, and scanned for a moment. She nodded to herself, then closed the book. If one were to have watched her at this point, they would have thought she was meticulously trying to pluck her shirt and cloak clean of cat hair. She was actually gathering any of Fred's fine hair she could find for a particular spell. She gathered seven strands into her hand.
She muttered a few words into her closed palm, then held her fist to her forehead. She thought, rather than spoke, a message.

{Fred? Can you hear me?}

Fred, who had until that moment been settling into a bale of hay and doing his best to ignore the two amorous horses in the next stall, perked an ear to the air.

{Yes, sweetling. You are improving your element, I see.}
{Yes, yes, no importance. These humans tire me. You're too

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frightening to join me for supper, apparently. After you have something to eat, I'll call you to the room. I'll have some mead waiting for thee.}
{Oh, now, Saure… I don't mind sleeping where I am. And I don't need mead. I'll be fine till tomorrow, waste not a thought on me.}
Saure smiled to herself, eyes still shut in calm concentration.
{I'll hear none of that. You'll be coming up to the room directly after supper. I won't let my best friend sleep in a stable.}

Fred was both warmed and confounded by the title… and wondered after it for a moment. He supposed "best friend" was an honorable enough consideration… and yet… it hurt. In his experience, friends had been expendable. They never stayed long. They had their purpose and then they moved on. This is quite normal for wild cats outside of prides. A lone puma stayed aloof, and rarely allowed himself the luxury of a companion.
Saure seemed more than that… so very much more…

{What are you thinking on, dear cat?}
This made Fred jolt guiltily. Had she heard his thoughts? He strove for a different train of contemplation, focusing on the hay and searching for a stray barn mouse.
{Nothing important. Thought I might catch a snack. Do you think there might be any rats about?}
Saure sighed and dropped her head a little.
{I can catch the flavor of your thoughts, Fred, not the fine details. You don't have to lie to me.}
The cat let his head drop to the hay, sighing. {Forgive me, sweetling.}
{Fie. Don't be embarrassed. I'll-}
"Your mead, lass! Wake!"
Saure started so violently, she almost fell out of the chair upon which she had been sitting. She thanked the innkeeper warmly and accepted the ceramic mug. The old woman promised some venison, bread and greens, and hobbled off to prepare it.
{Forgive the interruption; I'll see thee upstairs in an hour. Kennit?}
{Aye. See you then.}