'Exist?' Xenovia hazarded a guess, having only just met the guy. With any luck, awhile would become a while, and she'd get the opportunity to know him better, with or without Vyn's help. Stomping her feet, the big Deva marched through the snowy mush towards Jem, still warming his bones by the fire, as if to prove that wisdom really did come with age.

'Are you ready to go?' She asked him. 'Vyn's ready to go. I think she may have been born that way. Was she?'

It wasn't a goad. Or maybe it was. Either way she hoped to draw Jem to his feet, to get him moving before someone or something forced them to move. Like frostbite. Or serrated steel. Her gaze flitted to the trees again, expecting the worst.

Instead, there was naught but silence, and the crackle of a fire too stubborn to sit still.
 
Humor was decent. Joke could use work. But she’d get there. All Elum did…eventually. Because the Road was long and often dull.

Vyn mounted up and Jem nodded from the orphan soup.

When Xen came to him, he was already undressing. Coat first, then the robe, tossed at the newcomer without ceremony. So she was walking? Fine. She could carry his things. The robe hit her like a padded grenade, weighted with small, clinky secrets of a hundred pockets. Boots followed, thuds at her feet. The scared creature would probably get booted right up the nose if he aimed higher. Underwear went last. No hesitation.

He looked even smaller from horseback.

And then he wasn’t.

No growl or ingenious flex of muscle. Shimmer of light absent. Just the sound of bones breaking themselves into a more suitable form. A blink, if that.

In place of Jem, a massive fourhorn ram stood – taller now, even on all fours, than he'd ever been upright. Dug at the ground with impatience Jem wouldn’t normally express. Its coat brown, except the black of the face, and the single white streak down his middle. One pair of horns swept back like Vyn’s own – the other sticking forward, a more violent warning.

Vyn didn’t even blink.

They were safe with Jem around.

“Now is good.” Near fell of Myrtle, choking on her own joke.
 
Everyone shifted differently. It was one of life's small truths. For some, it was a private matter, best done behind closed doors or out of sight, as if the primal energies that flowed through devahni veins was something to be ashamed of. Xen wasn't.

She was just scared.

Blinking, she stood to as Jem disrobed, passing her his clothes and boots. Sweaty, snow-crusted things, the cold robbed them of Jem's scent, much to Xenovia's relief. Even the undergarments, which she promptly stuffed into one of his coat pockets before slinging it over her shoulder, ready for the long walk. Bones cracked, realigned, so fast she must've imagined it.

Jem didn't really go nowhere. Shapes could shift, but the soul remained ever the same. So did the eyes. Hot breath washed over Xen, and she grinned behind her scarves, fingers wiggling in greeting as she met Jem's truest form.

'Alright, then!' She nodded. 'Let's hit the road, before the Road hits us.'
 
Jem was already moving ahead of them. The Road would make way – or a way would be made. For someone so quiet, he really was surprisingly forceful in primal form. Each hoof thudded the dirt like a knock-knock joke she was yet to learn. Vyn pulled the reins, pacing Myrtle to follow. Looked to Xen who was confident on walking and wondered… was her primal form something embarrassing? What if she turned into something horrible – like a chicken? Vyn would still be happier with a chicken than none at all.

True to Jem’s word – they’ve encountered fresher tracks by the end of the first day. Night passed uneventful, and it was but a three hour more – by foot, horse, or trot – till their destination.

They caught up to the Wagons on the move. The rest wouldn’t be stopping until next sundown. Jem shifted back and redressed from the clothes Vyn had packed into the saddlebags. She dismounted, looking to tie Myrtle to one of the Wagons – give the poor animal a moment’s peace.

Wondered how Xen was holding up. She’d walked the whole way, after all.
 
Regret was not something Xen entertained often. An old acquaintance, it popped by every now and then to see how she was faring, surprising her most times with its appearance. If not for her long legs and iron will, it likely would've caught up to her, somewhere along the Road. But it didn't.

Though, her aching calves and frozen feet had Xenovia questioning herself for a mile or two.

Night fell and dawn followed swiftly, riding in on the previous day's coattails. Clear, cold skies lit the way as Jem rustled them up some Wagons. Finally! Rubbing some life back into her weary muscles, Xen settled against the nearest Wagon, anchoring herself to the old wood-and-canvas frame as if it was her home already. Hopefully, fate abiding, it would be soon.

'I'm okay!' Sensing a Vyn approach, the Deva smiled through her exhaustion, her breathing remarkably steady for someone who'd just trekked gods knew how far through the snow. Guess I'm tougher than I thought, she grinned, small and to herself. Feeding her ego a little. Just cause. 'Are... are you okay? Didn't fall asleep in the saddle again, did ya?'
 
Xen had nested on one of the closer Wagons, feet hanging low, like they wished to be back on the ground. Vyn doubted it, but the image stuck. Catching up to the sitting woman was easy. The Elum were not known for speed. Most days, the Wagons could barely outpace feet. There were times where they needed to be faster, but those were rare. Road wasn’t a thing of speed, just a way of life.

“Not a saddle this time around, thank the gods.” Vyn plopped down next to the woman. The wood complained at having another thing to carry, but it didn’t really get a say. “Sleeping in my own Wagon tonight. Which will be a nice change.” Not like it was fancy. Or especially comfortable. But it was hers and surrounded by people she knew – and safe, above all other things.

“You’re welcome to join me until we sort out a place for you.” There was always an empty Wagon somewhere. Sad truth of this life. Well, any life. Losing people wasn't special. Just felt different when they were yours.
 
'Your own Wagon? Very bougie!' Xen teased as they took a load off. This wasn't an adventure. Not really. But it was exciting. At least until she started thinking about what had brought her here in the first place. Then, it was just terrifying. Dreadful in a creeping, sneaking sort of way.

'If you're sure?' Rubbing some warmth into her thighs, Xenovia glanced sidelong at Vyn, sheepish in her sincerity. 'You've already done so much for me. I would hate to become a burden to you.'

The bed of a Wagon sounded like paradise when compared to what they'd just been through. Sleeping rough beneath the stars was nice and all, but it kind of lost its charm after the first few nights. If not for Onion stoking the fire and keeping the wolves at bay, they likely would've perished long before they found Jem. A sobering thought, and not the kind shared amongst friends.

'I'll make it up to you,' the redhead promised, throwing her arms around Vyn. 'One way or 'nother, I will! You'll just have to put up with me until I do,' she grinned, letting go, afraid she might smother her if she held on any longer.
 
“Ye.” Smiled a bit at that. “Rich girl right here.” Every piece of that Wagon may have seen a lifetime of use twice-over, had a squeaky wheel and a door that never quite closed right – but it was hers. That had to count for something. People had to find joy in something; else the whole living business was awfully depressing. Vyn found hers in community. It often wasn’t enough, but it was always better than being just another random stranger on the Road. When you really thought about it – the Elum were blessed. And she had Jem. So she was doing better than some random Wagonchaser.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Just try sleeping through the night.” For once. “And get some rest.”

Vyn’d let the other woman believe that Onion was out there watching over them every night – but in truth, Vyn’s camp was always safe. Even without a fire or a guard, no animals would attack, no food would spoil, no water would cause the shits. Such was the pact. Still didn’t understand it all that well – but giving yourself to someone who just didn’t want to be alone a couple of times per year sounded like a good deal. And the whole bit about regular renewals really put one’s mind at ease. If the contract wasn’t living up to its expectations, she could always choose not to extend it.

“Of course you will.” Ruffled Xen’s hair a bit. Didn’t like being looked at like that. Like she was some kind of example to follow – when she was really just another horngirl on the Road. Myrtle and better clothes the only thing separating them. Well, that – and Xen had been alone.

Had been.

But no longer. She was one of them now. For as long as she wished it.
 
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