"Heave, ho! Come on, put your backs into it!" Gerard shouted as the men loaded up the last cask of red wine into the back of the wagon. Six barrels of his best aged red wine and apple cider, three each, were secured and covered by a tarp. When the men were done, he handed each of them a small portion of silver crescents for their work. "Is that all of them?" The driver shouted from the front. "Yes, that's the last one!" The nokken shouted back, before taking his violin case boarding the wagon. The annual Ignius food and wine festival was a celebrated event in this corner of the Highlands, where even visitors from Parvpora would come to have a taste. He had been a regular at the festival for years now, but this year he would finally be able to play a bigger role than the average casual connoisseur. For five years, he had aged the cream of the crop of the fruit from his vineyards and orchards and now it was time to unveil them to the tasters. He wasn't one to normally make wine, but he had been looking forward to this moment and he wasn't leaving any room for error. 

With the slap of the reins, he and Grangier–the driver he had hired would be traveling across the countryside until they reached the festival grounds. It was a three-day's journey by wagon with a pair of sturdy horses, but by no means did that remove the possibility of danger. The barrels were heavy, making them slow. They'd be a perfect target for bandits. That was why Gerard had taken care to hire a person who was familiar with the local terrain and traveled through the area often. A person who passed through the place often would become aware of common hideouts for highwaymen and robbers. Although he had lived here for several decades, he spent most of his time maintaining his estate. Very rarely did he leave the borders of his house except for urgent business. The first day had been uneventful, and the two set up camp to rest. The weather had been good and with traveling on a downward slope they were making record time. Grangier was starting the evening meal while Gerard went to collect more tinder. On the way to check his barrels, he noticed the tarp he had used to cover them was askew. Before he could readjust the corners, he heard a cry from Grangier back at the campfire and drew his concealed dagger.

Running to the scene he found the wagon driver wrestling with a masked man, and soon three more came slinking out of the brush. While they fended off the bandits, the pork haunch that Grangier had left on the cooking rack was starting to char on the skin. The smell of meat grilling drifted in the air as the two men grappled with the armed robbers.

The moon shined brightly over the landscape, illuminating the grassland that surrounded the dirt road, the stars giving off the additional gleam of tranquility. The was at a near still, with the wind gently flowing by, shifting the grass around and the hair to the sole wanderer, whose footsteps and rattling of the couple chain links breaking the silence that had once dominated the land. Slowly, Eden wandered through the land, taking in the sights as she could while still resting the massive steel beam on her shoulder , a single arm cradling its hilt. The other hand, however, cradled more of her stomach as it, too broke the silence as it roared to life.

It was such an odd thought: Though she lived on mere scraps, she pushed herself to survive on that alone, and yet here, standing in the land as free as any other, her body craved her sustenance, as if it wanted to make up for what it had missed. While mere fruits could hold her off for a bit, her body knew it was not for her. It simply knew it would rather have the red muscle of living prey, as that gave fuel to her strength. The more she thought about it, the more her senses turned up to seek it out… her find losing focus from time and becoming more of a beast herself thinking about how to get her fill.

… Her nose twinged at the sudden catch… while lost in her own thoughts, she caught a smell of it. It was someone else's kill, yes, as it also came with the smell of smoke, but her hunger drew her towards it anyways. Her pace quickened a bit as she followed the road down before seeing a figure coming into shape from a glow behind it. Though, the closer she got, a new smell was swung into the mix… fruit? It had that smell of it, but it was also… somewhat off. There was a strange difference to it, which only became more pronounced and concentrated the closer she got, soon coming towards the wagon itself, tilting her head at the wagon's content before drawing her nose closer for a more direct sniff.

While Eden was distracted, one of the bandits caught sight of the new introduction, who found an interesting way of investigating what was happening. Grinning, he broke off from the other's struggle to deal with the sole newcomer. "Hey lady," he told her with a smug tone, drawing the tigerkin's ears before eyes, "I hate to break it to ya, but this here is our catch. You best be off leaving this behind. I'd hate to hurt such a–" His noises meant nothing to the woman. All she had to do was feel his bit of malice to react. It was small, but threatening enough for her to catch his face in her left hand, nails grown out before slamming it down into the earth, all while making sure her edge never left her shoulder.

The screams of one of the bandits drew the attention of another, which Gerard proceeded to clobber with the back of a pot. Unfortunately that did little and the man returned the favor by punching him in the jaw. Grangier went to assist, and got the man off of beating him black and blue and the two started to fight. The third man then drew a blade and cut the wagon driver in the back while Gerard was trying to recover. With Grangier down, Gerard was left to deal with the pair. He wasn't a fighter, so the best he could do was protect his head and neck with his arms as they tag-teamed him. They threw him to the ground and were kicking him when one of the bandits began grabbing at his own throat. The nokken weren't called 'drowners' for no reason, as a long tendril of water from the nearby creek was covering the man's face like an over-sized hand. The second bandit was distracted by his cohort's plight, giving Gerard enough time to manipulate the water to sweep both of them up in a single swipe. Though he was still on the ground bruised and injured, he tossed the two men back and forth with the coil of water and flung them into the side of the wagon. 

After they both hit, the water-woven appendage grasped them again and threw them into the creek where they began to drift downstream. Coughing, he struggled to get up and wiped the corner of his mouth to find it was bleeding. Using a bit of ice he stopped the bleeding and helped numb his bruises enough to allow him to get over to Grangier. The driver had been stabbed, but with no clerics of medical assistance within the area he best he could do was to freeze the wound and leave the blade in. With two out of three bandits taken care of, Gerard now heard the scuffling from the back of the wagon and went to investigate. Holding his side, he swore that if any of the thieves had touched a single one of his wine barrels he'd skewer him on a pike of ice. Instead he saw a woman with beast-like features brutalizing the brigand who had thought to sneak a taste of his precious vintage. By the gods, the weapon she was holding might as well have been a house's support beam! A single hit from that and he'd be done for–end of story. He did his best to hold his hands up to show he wasn't intending to attack, dropping his dagger in the dirt. He was hurting too much all over to put up a fight.

Meanwhile, on the grill rack the meat was starting to sizzle and burn for staying in the same spot for too long. Grangier groaned as he had been told by Gerard through a loud whisper in the ear to stay put and not to move.

The sound of scuffle quickly died down, ending off with the splashes of bodies into the nearby creek, through the thud of steel on the treaded dirt was close enough to cause her ears to flicker towards the noise once more, drawing her attention away from her downed victim. There before her stood a man, arms in the air giving the signal of surrender, but why? Did he belong to the man he forced down? No, his air was different. He had no real air of malice to him, and made no effort to even attempt to challenge or intimidate her. IN response, her claws retracted back into the form of nails before uprighting herself and sniffing the air after the pop of the burning wood.

While the smell of the fruit was strong where she was, the smell of smoke began to overpower it, mixing in with the meat itself. As if no longer caring about the other's existence, she walked past him and over to the fire, where yet another person sat with a sword in his back and ice at the wound itself. She could not help but tilt her head in confusion at the sight of this. Why would anyone even choose to live their life with that? However, her nose stole her attention away once more, spotting what she sought for in the first place: A large portion of pork that rested over the flames.

Moving over to the fire, she turned her massive weapon in her hand downward before forcing the flat tip into the earth before sitting down, her tail swaying eagerly as she pulled the chunk of meat off the rack itself. One of the sides was flooded with an earthly burning smell as it had started to blacken while the other looked quite rare. She could feel herself drooling from the smell alone as her arms moved the chunk closer… jaw dropping open with her fangs ready to tear the portion apart and enjoy every drop of it…

But she stopped herself. Inches away from devouring, she forced her arms to stop the progression before placing it back where it was. It was not her kill… It was not her meal… No matter how enticing it was, it was not hers. She was able to drive the echoes of her old owner away, meaning she accepted the fact that it was not hers, and got up and sat on the other side of the fire.

As much as she desired it, it was not hers.

Gerard held his breath, expecting to bite the dust. He was both relieved and confused when the beast woman walked past him without a word. Turning around he saw her attention was on the poor neglected haunch of pork now being ruined by having been left on one side for too long. She was hungry, which probably explained how she came here. Rubbing his jaw, he used a bit more ice on it. Thank the gods he had knowledge of cryomancy. Slowly limping after her, he watched as she reached for the half-done meat only to stop. Seeing as neither he nor Grangier was in any shape to remedy the meat being ruined, he took a seat by the fire as he checked on the driver's condition. Looking over, he addressed her. "…Go ahead and eat it if you want. The cut's half-ruined anyway." He sighed, using the water from the stream to apply more frost to his bruises. Right now they could forget about cooking. They'd have to make do with hardtack and jerky with water until they made it to the festival grounds. What an awful way to start the trip, he thought to himself. Nearly getting killed wasn't a good sign for anything.

Hobbling over to the pack of supplies, he took out a canteen and some dried food. He would be borrowing Grangier's water for the time being, setting a pot of water from the creek to boil to make up for what he drank. After drinking several gulps he felt rejuvenated, and started to work on moving the injured man into the wagon. Very carefully, he used a stream of water from the creek to flow underneath him. Unfortunately the man would have to put up with being soaked for a short time, but he himself didn't have the strength to move him carefully. The water then lifted him up like a pair of arms, and slid over to the back of the wagon. Keeping his hands high, he used a water tendril to move the barrels around so there was enough space to lay Grangier down flat. When he was set down, he groaned again but the ice was helping him deal with the pain. The tarp that was used to cover the barrels was repurposed as a makeshift blanket, and Gerard extracted the rest of the extra water left in Grangier's clothes. Again, he checked if there was any bleeding. The only thing staunching the flow was the ice and blade still lodged in him. He couldn't do much else for the man, but he had to keep him alive as long as possible until they reached their destination. 

After making sure the wagon driver was hydrated and had some food in him, Gerard pulled out his violin. "Grangier, can you hear me?" The bearded man opened his eyes and replied weakly. "…Yeah, I hear you." Tuning his instrument, he began to pull his bow across the strings. "Good, I just wanted to make sure. Now Grangier, I need you to listen carefully while I talk to you. This is very important. We still have at least a day and a half's time before we arrive, gods willing. I know this will be hard for you but you need to keep still as to prevent the wound from getting worse." As the bard began to play, he told the man to focus intently on the music as it would make the pain more bearable. The wagon driver likely thought he meant it would heal him, but Gerard was actually lulling him to sleep. Once the man was unconscious, Gerard ensured he wouldn't be jostled when they began driving again, and indirectly chilled the boards below him so his body would enter a stupor. When all of this was done, he himself finally ate the rest of the dried food he had take out and sat down to rest. Using such precise methods with magic was a strain on his already-exhausted stamina. He kept an eye on the beast woman, wondering if she was going to stay or leave once her meal was done. 

While she did not understand their reasoning why, it seemed they had permitted her to the meat… They did not even bother to try and portion it out, either. They granted her the entire thing! She was so agasped about it, she simply stared back up at them as he worked with the water onto his wound as it…. became solid? She did not really know how, and her stomach reminded her to not care, as it reminded her of her empty belly. Picking the chop off the roast once more, she figured the best she could do was to give the man a nod, even if his attention was on the man with the sword in him before her fangs barged into the rare portion of the meat.

Once she got going, table manners were all but damned as she shred the meat apart, devouring the chop before her like a feral animal than a proper person of society. She was loud, messy, and vicious as she tore into the flesh, chewing down on her morsels, taking the quick moment to swallow her bits before attacking the meat once more. There was no shame in spitting out the portions that did not feel right on her tongue before delving more in. Any comments about her behavior would have been on lost ears as she satisfied her hunger.

Though what did fall upon the ears of the tigerfin was the sound of the violin, something her sharp ears could not easy escape from. As the melody played, she ate her fill, gaining a sense of satisfaction. It was a good feeling… It meant she no longer had to ravage at the bone for every morsel… Her chewing slowed down… as her eyes stayed forward on the flame… it was a comfortable… glow…

… Thud…

While not the intended plan for the violinist, it seemed that Eden was also caught into his spell, her body laying limp to the side as the bone she had chewed upon laid in the dirt. Her body was unnaturally limp, as she was often a person who would sleep with one eye open, ready to act whenever possible, and yet the magic had taken her over into a loose rest, leaving her body open to anything as she lightly breathed her tired breaths.

It was then that Gerard realized the beast woman was…limp. Cautiously he approached, trying to deduce what had caused her current state. He spied the bits of meat she had left on the ground and the bone. Was it food poisoning? No, that couldn't be–she'd be in agony than unconscious. Was she hit over the head? He couldn't find any visible head wounds or concussions. He warily prodded her with the bow of his violin–a great risk as if she were to retaliate he would be at a loss as to how to find a suitable replacement. Nothing. Listening carefully he picked up the faint sound of…snoring. Was she so tired that she immediately took an after-meal nap? As he walked away, then it dawned on him. Oh of course, it was that. "So you were eavesdropping on my little spell then. Now it all makes sense. Well sleep to your heart's content–I've no spell to wake you otherwise." He mused aloud to himself.

Night was falling, and with him being the only one awake he had to create a suitable defense against visitors of the night. Drawing out buckets of water he poured them out onto the ground until large puddles formed around the entire encampment. Then, as the moon began to rise in the sky he pulled the water upwards to converge above the campfire creating a large dome with an aperture in the center. The aperture was right above the fire to allow ventilation, but he doubted anything save for those with flight could climb in easily. With the cool evening air settling in the ice dome could last for hours without additional assistance until sunrise. 

The next morning came too early. Gerard had barely slept, and awoke at least an hour before dawn. The sky was still dark and the fire was out. It was a good thing he had created the ice dome, as he noticed scratches on the outside. Slowly he reapplied the ice to himself, wishing he had time to at least recover from the injuries sustained to his muscles. This time he'd be driving the wagon, and likely wouldn't get much rest until they were at the festival grounds. Checking to see if any smoldering embers remained in the ashes, he started the fire again watching as the ice dome collapsed back into water. He had the foresight to include the wagon in the dome, thus his precious casks of wine and cider were safe. The boiled water from the day before was cooled, so he refilled Grangier's canteen and began heating the rest to make a light broth from the dried meat. The rest of the food was preserved in some way or the other, so they would need the extra water. He couldn't wait to eat fresh vegetables instead of these dried, tasteless, salt-laden excuses of food.

The smell of meat heating in the water with crumbled and soaked hardtack made an odd broth and porridge, but it would have to do. Grangier was still asleep, so he left him be. If the pain wasn't subsiding he might have to dip into one of the casks and inebriate him if his magic wasn't enough to keep him unconscious. The very thought of cracking a barrel open prematurely was reprehensible, but he wasn't entirely selfish. He could always make another batch of wine. When he was done doing the daily checks and routine he took out his violin and played a few slow notes without the magical enchantment. It was hard to play well when his arms were so stiff.

The smell of the broth hovered near Eden's nose as it wafted around the campfire, slowly bringing her back as her eyes slowly opened in a sideways world of glowing fuzz. What even happened? Did the fire get so comfortable that she fell asleep? No, that wasn't it. Whenever she rested, she still had her senses at alert in case anyone attempted an ambush. It was not the meat, as she was sure she could taste anything fowl, and all that met that description were the black parts of the meat. The rest tasted fine…

Her eyes suddenly grew wide an alert. She fought through the tired daze and pushed herself back to her feet, taking the thick metal blade in hand and holding it out, her eyes scouring the hand before them. However, as she skimmed, the land rested still, aside from the small flame and the man who set it up behind her. However, what she did notie was the light glow coming up from the horizon. Dawn was soon breaking. Did she sleep throughout the night defenseless? Well, maybe not. After all, the person who gave her the meal was still there… so maybe he did?

A sigh was soon to escape her lips as she released the tension out of her shoulders before getting in a long stretch with her arms towards the sky. Even her tail stretched out before she returned to a more natural stance before turning back around to the man next to the fire before giving a minor head tilt.

Why was he still here?

"You're awake. About time you woke up. Did you sleep well? I didn't." Gerard said, stopping his poor example of musical warm-up exercises. His arms fell to his sides stiffly as he set his violin and bow back into their case. No wonder his playing was terrible, the muscles in his arms were stiff and were as heavy as lead. Not being to even play a simple song without his usual range of motion was frustrating, and he sighed loudly. Soon he'd have to use them to drive the wagon, too. The bubbling of the broth told him it was just about done, and he put in the pickles. A few minutes later he used a ladle to scoop out a small bowlful of the hardtack and jerky gruel, and checked the consistency. It resembled a roux, or really mushy gravy. The dried meat had boiled out its flavor and had softened into a less desiccated yet stringy form. The pickles were the only thing that added a bit of color to the otherwise monochrome mixture. 

He set the first bowl down for the beast woman with a clean spoon, and began to scoop another. In this second bowl he was careful to avoid pouring any large pieces of meat or pickle into it. This would be for Grangier. If he had left the meat and pickles in the man might choke while drinking it down. Besides, there wasn't much reason to chew the protein fibers when the flavor was in the broth. Before making his way to the wagon, he spoke loudly towards Eden. "That bowl is yours. It isn't much, but it will have to do. Make sure to skim from the surface–it's still hot." He had no idea whether or not she understood him, but wasn't in any condition to check. The heaviness in his limbs and his lack of sleep made it difficult to focus intently. Shuffling over to where he had laid Grangier down, he set down the bowl and worked to prop the wagon driver up. The blood was now dry around the weapon still embedded in the man, but he was still breathing. His condition seemed stable for now. 

Waking him up Gerard assisted him as he swallowed some food down. The last gulps were washed down with water, and Grangier was laid down again. He had informed the driver that he would be taking over and to sit still while they continued on. Gerard was sure to speak in a reassuring tone to keep the man calm. He was still injured and untreated, and the longer the bard could keep the man's metabolism slowed the better. Triggering a fear response would likely accelerate the bleeding he had worked so hard to slow. With that taken care of, the next issue at hand was their guest. She had aided them in subduing the bandits, though he wouldn't quite consider her in their party as of yet. The woman hadn't uttered a single word since she appeared. Was she mute?

She definitely wasn't deaf, and as he scooped a bowl of broth for himself he looked her over. From her features she seemed to be some kind of feline, with a rather lean build. Her strength was undeniable, as demonstrated by that gargantuan piece of metal of a weapon she had with her there. As much as they were pressed for time and supplies, he needed another pair of eyes and ears to keep the wagon's cargo safe. The question was, would she be willing to do it? Putting his hands together Gerard made his fingers interlock. It was worth a try. Even if she ultimately refused, he had to at least ask.

Waiting for her to finish her food, he took the opportunity to present his proposition. "…You there. You're quite strong by the looks of that weapon you have there. Thanks to those brigands back there, we've come up a man short. How's this: if you're willing to come with us and make sure no one touches those barrels in the wagon until I say so, I can take you to a place where you can eat as much as you want–for free." While he spoke he motioned to her weapon, to himself, and then the wagon. Hopefully he had made his offer clear to her; he didn't have confidence in his sign language.

Eden blinked when the bowl of slop was passed out in front of her, taking it into her hands and sniffing it as he talked. The steam vented up her nose, yet she still tried to scarf it down. However, it caused an intimidate choke as the boiling temperature filled her throat, causing her to cough up a bit of a storm before having to sit on it for her to cool. Most of the time when she had to eat this slop, it was cold and flat, as if flavor was never a thing, and yet even though this nearly destroyed her mouth by the heat, she wanted to devour it. It had a taste she never had, and it still felt like a rarity to eat a good meal such as this.

Luckily, she only had to wait moments before her sips did not scorch her entire mouth before she began to shovel the contents within, filling her mouth before chewing through the chunky gravy, swallowing it down in a large gulp before repeating the process time and again before its contents were emptied out, resting the bowl next to the campfire and giving a nod towards the one who was icing himself all over. That was when she spoke to him, making motions over to items as he emanated sounds.

It did, however, take a while for her to respond, as if trying to think of how to reply, but what it was was certainly longer than what anyone would expect. In fact, it was more like she wanted to reassure what was being asked as she walked back to where the man from last night tried to intervene. She even pointed down to where he used to lay to try and signify the person before holding her arms up and swinging downwards, hitting the cargo with an imaginary weapon, though quick enough to look back to make sure she was on track. Afterwards, she would point towards herself before doing another imaginary horizontal swing before pointing back at the ground, eyes locked on the man's for a response.