(no subject)

The rain has stopped near dawn. Slí is tired, but cool air of a cloud forest, filled with scent of blooming rhododendron, and saturated moss under her feet feels so good that she decides to take longer route and stop by cleric’s place.

Small house on a clearing is quiet, only wind chimes hanging from thatched roof can be barely heard when air shifts. Slí takes two jars of honey from her backpack, leaves them on a wooden porch, and turns back to the path. Her circle’s settlement is just over an hour walk from here.

“Good morning, Slí”

Slí turns around among tall fern leaves, slighty startled. This tiny half-elf can be really sneaky sometimes, she thinks, making her way back to the house.

“I thought you were asleep, so I just left you a little something.” She nods to the jars. “cherry blossom.”

“Thanks!” Ljómi sits down on a porch and opens one of the jars immediately, visibly excited.

Slí smiles. Cherry blossom honey is not easy to come by, and she’s pleased to see Ljómi’s reaction. She comes closer to join her on a porch and notices a dark, fuzzy shape on a bed visible behind open door panel. A cat?  But then her attention drifts to the way cleric’s purple robe is sliding off her shoulders, and she reaches to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. Ljómi smiles lightly, puts down a jar and grab Slí’s other hand.

“Now, let me see that arm.” She pushes her cloak back to reveal bandages under the sleeve.

“It’s nothing serious” Slí mutters, but offers no resistance. She’s sure she didn’t show her injury, but healer’s eye is hard to fool. Ljómi unwrap the bandages and examines deep cut, then whispers few words. Slí relaxes, feeling the warmth of a healing spell, and notices that the cat is now awake, pressed to Ljómi’s side and purring loudly. It’s burnt orange, large for a cat, with long limbs and elongated head and eyes that seem to be changing colours. It looks... fey?

“When did you get a cat?” she asks when Ljómi’s finished.

“That’s not a cat.” Ljómi gets up and moves to the door. “Wanna stay? I can make us a coffee.”

Her zakharian robe is now loose, and faint morning sunlight piercing the mist paints her brown skin golden, and Slí just nods her head, breathless. Cat jumps down from the porch, and in midair its form shifts, blurres into shadow that takes vaguely humanoid form before disappearing – but not for Ljómi, who glances in their direction with a crooked smile.

“Oh, I will” she says, then she drops her robe on the floor, and pulls Slí inside.