'Pfft! Aye! Maybe then we'll have coin enough to buy you those new robes I mentioned.' Not a bad idea, Xen supposed, if a tad unethical. Still. 'Best we don't go incurring the wrath of Gordar, or that baby bump will be the least of your concerns,' she continued, matching energies with Vyn, the slant of the hill speeding their steps, down to camp.

Glancing at the bottle cradled in Vyn's arms, like a babe fresh from the grapevine, Xen took a moment to apologise.

'For earlier,' she explained, as if that narrowed down the long list of occasions where there had been a need for such. 'I didn't mean to bring the mood down. It all sort of just... came out? What with the reflecting and the roadside philosophy.'

Talk of names, and glimpses into lives she hadn't been a part of. Till now. 'In the Sink, you were always better off keeping your cards close to your chest, so to speak.' Trust? A rare commodity. Loyalty? Never heard of 'im. As for secrets, well, the only way two people could keep one is if the other was dead.

'I guess I'm... I mean, it's... nice, being able to confide in people for a change. Feels refreshing!' Not quite wine-and-cheese refreshing, but better than pottage and wormy apples. 'Anywho! Let's go wrangle up these friends of ours 'fore they decide to get on and start the party without us.'
 
The pfts and snickers made for a lovely chat. Meant they were alright. That no one was in trouble just yet. That perhaps Xen was finally safe – or as close to it as you could get her. But safe wasn't a truth. Just a feeling. Little bit of warmth you tricked into knowing it'd always belonged. And Vyn had always been good at that – making feelings feel like something else long enough to forget why they were there in the first place. A small, coinless robbery.

Was ready to argue. We're not doing that. You're not apologizing to me for... And she'd never actually said it. Not exactly. But Vyn had guesses floating 'round the mindsoup.

Xen moved to lighter stuff, and the battle needn't have been fought. Guess patience had its own rewards.

„Our friends, was it?“ knocked on the bottlebaby, like an auctioneer grabbing everyone's attention. „Jem going once, going twice...“ Doubted anyone would take the guy. For all the love she held, he was a gloombutt.

„You gotta hop and skip for us both tonight.“ Smacked just under her hip, so it jiggled. This child business was a downer – couldn't even drum yourself like an Elum. „I'm down to being real cheeky with the grass – left, right, left...“ Missed dancing. Made the body feel less stiff. Guess swaying and animated sitting were it, for the foreseeable future.

„How do you spend your days when I'm not around?“ knocks to the bottle slowed. „Not Jemmed up in a corner and distancegazing, I hope.“
 
'Done and done!' Xen liked to dance and shake. Sitting down could be fun, too, when you surrounded yourself with the right people. As far as Wagonfolk were concerned, they were more right than they were wrong. Except maybe Jem, who would neither confirm nor deny such allegations.

Still. He was family.

'Hardly!' Xen snorted a laugh. 'I walk the Nightline. 'S how I came to know Jenna and Mikael.' Todd, also, though she would get to him later. Assuming he doesn't sniff me out first, she mused, the bark and bray of hounds and pack animals mingling with cheers and laughter. Close now. 'I, um, tend not to shift much. Normally, I just grab myself an axe and find a dark corner to lurk in.' To watch, and make sure nobody else was watching, since sleeping was out of the question.

Elum were kind and companionate. Not everyone who shared the Road was.

'Apart from that, I keep myself busy helpin' folk out. My muscles are in high demand. I mean, just look at 'em!' Flexing, Xenovia's eyebrows made like caterpillars, wriggling as she showed off for her friend. Anything to see Vyn smile. 'Okay!' She chuckled, bumping hips. 'Your turn!'

To flex, or talk. Either worked for her.
 
Come to think of it, she'd never seen Xen shift. And many deva were like that – never really shifting unless it was really necessary. But you still caught them here and there. Not Xen. Never Xen. Perhaps her primal was something silly, like a chicken. To be fair, Vyn would take a chicken over nothing. Made you more deva, somehow. Not that she ever needed to belong to a people other than the Elum – but always felt like a piece was missing.

„I know Nightline's fancy and all, but I mostly sleep through the night.“ So Xen wasn't sleeping yet. „Sometimes dream I've been kicked in the belly.“ Sneer down to the gut and the restless passenger. „Wake up, and it's true.“

„My turn?“ And the free bicep scrunched up. Not much change. „The magical robe of dimunit..demuni..dimini..of smallness makes everything look tiny.“ Looked to her middle again. „Well, almost anything.“

„So who you dancing with tonight?“ Caterpillars of her own.
 
Xen's lips thinned at the sneer. Concern made itself plain in the lines of her face. 'A fool, he was, to run out on you.' Whoever he was. The time and place had never been right enough to ask. Not an easy subject to broach, really. Who bloated Vyn's belly? Supposed it didn't really matter in the end, so long as she and babe were fit and healthy.

Still. A good hiding never hurt anyone... permanently.

'Who am I dancing with?' Xen's eyebrows rose as she regarded her friend the gossipmonger, a small smirk pulling at her painted lips. 'Why, everyone and anyone I can lay my hands on,' she laughed, the sound sharp as it was sincere. Smirk turned to smile, and she winked, tail flicking up to wrap around the small of Vyn's back. 'I did plan on asking you, but considering you'll be out of commission for most of the night,' she shrugged. Nothing for it.

'Doubt you'd be able to keep up with me, anyhow,' the devahni grinned, head canted to the side as she glanced at Vyn, her gaze fire and smoke, with a bit of smoulder for good measure.
 
Hard to be sure who did the running, when you weren't even sure who you were some of the time. Xen was a good sort, but she had no idea what she was talking about. Vyn wasn't even sure she understood herself. But she and the spirit had come to an uneasy truce regarding the whole thing. The child would be kept out of harm's way – to protect the vessel, if nothing else.

Suppose she should be grateful to have Xen stick up for her, but all she felt was angry. Was this how others felt when she talked the talk?

Not like she was fragile or anything- but they did tell her to take it easy in the last months. Bumps and bruises became a big thing when it wasn't just your own head you were messing with. Plenty of things to go wrong. Some even told her that too much movement could make the thing come out too early. And she wasn't stuck with the thing in the oven for months, only to deliver it unbaked. She'd soaked through too many nights, and thrown too many mornings up. Some days the temptation was there – just to get it out soon as possible. To have a body beyond a container, to be something other than a carrier of things not fully of this world.

„I'm sure I can pull of a song or two.“ Probably not two. „Not dead you know. Extra living, really.“

The tail at her back felt strange. Was Xen...? No. Surely not.

„All this carrier business has me living like a chicken, out like a light soon as it's dark.“ And in confidence: „Might've turned me evil too. You don't know.“

Was this what it felt like to be cared for? Uncomfortable. She was the fussy one, usually.

„I'm sure we can scrounge up someone to beat you at armwrestling.“ Vyn would even pay to see that.
 
'Evil? You?' Xen shook her head. 'Nope! Sorry! Not allowed.' Evil people didn't help strangers out of tricky situations. They let them freeze to death, or starve depending on what day of the week it was. The real blackhearts, like those prowling the Sink, were worse. Why wait for someone to pop their clogs when you could speed things along?

'Haven't caught you in a lie, and I'm pretty sure you've never cheated me. Well. Except that one time at breakfast.'

The last hash brown. A reward for a long, sleepless night spent on the Line. Breakfast was one of the few things Xenovia looked forward to, next to lunch and dinner. And to think she only had her back turned for a few seconds.

'Oh, arm-wrestle smarm-wrestle! That can wait till I'm well and truly sozzled,' the Deva grinned, planning on celebrating away her woes, since that seemed to be what everyone else planned on doing. 'What I want to know is do you sing as magnificently as you spin stories?' A good question, that. At least in Xen's humble opinion. 'You sing, I dance. Ain't that what they call a win-wi-'

A voice cut through the spreading darkness, joyful and spirited, if a little slurred.

'Xen! Vyn! Vynovia! Hey!'

Following the sound of their names being called, the redhead sighed as she spotted a familiar figure bouncing towards them betwixt the wagons. Another accompanied them, less hasty in their steps, though no less direct.

'Uh-oh.' Xen whispered in Vyn's ear. 'Ambush!'
 
Vynovia? What the hell was a Vynovia? But she knew what they meant. Of course she knew.

Tingled down to her toe at the warm air about her ear. At least she didn't flinch. Small victory, that. Whenever people started spending time together, there were always rumors and gossip. Vyn might've even spun some of them herself. There were no doubt stories about her bellybop too. But that's all it was...stories. When people started giving things names, it became uncomfortable. Because names meant things. Gave 'em shape. Not a thing to be taken lightly.

Ambush, huh? And it was. But not the voices further down the road. The warmth at her side. Rude, really. People shouldn't sneak up on you like that.

She knew the voices. Jenna, and was that Mikael behind her? She knew them in passing. Elum were small enough that everyone at least knew of everyone else. Some relations developed beyond it, some were happy right there. This was one of the latter. Not like she had anything against them – it'd just never clicked the way some other people had. And that was alright, not everyone was meant to like everyone else. If Xen found something to like, surely they were good people.

„Vynovia?“ She turned to Xen, eyebrow raised and cheeks flush....from the walk, of course.
 
Xen met the question with a shrug. 'Beats me,' she said, stopping her steps. 'Guess Jenna thinks she's being witty. Not like we come as a package deal.' Sure, they spent an awful lot of time together; that's what friends did on the Road. So what if one of them was harbouring feelings they hadn't seen coming. Not like much would ever come of it.

Though, one does hope, thought Xen, arms thrown wide for Jenna to walk into, as she so often did.

'Jenna! Mikael! What a pleasant surprise!' Sharing smiles and sentiments, Xen greeted her newfound companions with hugs and kisses. At least Jenna. The slowpoke was a touch more taciturn than his counterpart, like a mini Jem, minus the horns.

A slap on the shoulder and a nod for him, enough to elicit some kind of reaction from the guy. 'Figured you two would be at the party,' said Xen, returning to Vyn's side. 'What happened? They kick you out for bad behaviour?' Mik snorted, earning himself a pointed look from Jenna.

'Yeah,' he mumbled. 'Something like that.'

Face screwed up, Jen stuck her tongue out at the dwarf, arms crossed like they might ward off evil. Maybe even scrutiny. 'Mik exaggerates!' The half-blood promised, tail swishing, the stubs of her horns jagged enough to draw blood. 'Nothing happened, I just-'

'Started singing,' interrupted Mik, no doubt laughing inside. 'I blame the wine. Potent stuff. Particularly for this 'un.'

'Well, well, well!' Xenovia grinned. 'Good thing I brought in her replacement, then.' Linking arms once more, Xen tossed a look Vyn's way. 'Meet Jenna and Mik. Again. Probably.'
 
When people called him mini Jem, Vyn could see it. Jemmy, as she'd dubbed it, was a common thing around the camp. Every year there was another – guys who thought being all gruff and quiet made them seem tough. Looked constipated to her. She liked Jem despite the attitude, not because of it. He'd earned his right to be shit at dealing with people. All these Jemmys were out of their depth.

„Arrived for the afterparty, have we?“ She tapped the cradled bottle. „As luck would have it – we've just robbed Gordar blind.“ As she shook the bottle, the maelstrom danced inside.

Xen and her weren't even done with prep yet, but it was well past noon somewhere. Not her business to judge people for being drunk. She'd be too, right this moment, if she could afford it.
 
'More like Gordar let us borrow a couple o' bottles,' Xen corrected her, adamant in her belief that Vyn enjoyed stirring the pot. So long as it doesn't bubble over. Folk got the wrong end of the stick sometimes, took things at face value. Mik and Jen weren't like that; not all Elum were like Jen and Mik.

A loud whoop from over yonder had heads turning, and Xen smiled, keen to discover what had got the rest of camp all abuzz.

Probably the surplus of booze, she mused. Gordar's bottles weren't the only ones floating around. Wine and beer and spirits. Enough hooch to drown a fish. And food to match, which was an impressive feat in and of itself, considering how scarce supplies could get on the Road. Less stretched now that Winter had passed them on by.

'Seems the revelries are not yet done,' grinned the Deva, her heels burning holes in the grass. 'Let's go dancing already! 'Fore I have to take matters into my own hands.'
 
Well Xen was a buzzkill. Not like anyone would think too harsh of 'em for robbing the guy. Not like they took his coffee – now that would've been a crime proper. Small smile at that. Might have a future in crime yet.

Noises further down invited to join. So perhaps joy remained unwrecked at the foothill. Whatever it was those two did, how bad could it really be? Sometimes you got told to take a walk cause you were bringing down everyone's spirits. And far as fuckoffs went, Elum were usually real polite about it. You got escorted out, usually drink in hand, without ever really knowing you were being removed.

And come next morning, no one cared. Everyone fell off the Wagon here and there. It only really became a story once you spent more time on the ground than the wheels.

„Take matters into your own hands, then.“ Vyn teased. Elum, even when they weren't kidboxes, were hardly known for speed.

Looked to Mikael and Jenna for backup, but she didn't know 'em all that well.
 
Xen huffed and scowled, though there was no heat to it. 'Alright!' She looked to Mikael, then Jenna. 'Grab her other arm,' she ordered, like one of those fancy pants watchmen back... home? Nope, not anymore. 'Maybe we'll actually be able to work up some speed, now that you ain't able to drag your delicate lil' feetsies!'

Buzzkill? Maybe, sometimes. Didn't mean she couldn't have fun when she really, really tried.

Can only watch the shadows for so long before you get lost in them, she mused, fingers tightening about glass, wishing the neck of the bottle was an axe haft. Not 'cause of anything Vyn may or may not have done. Oh no! Sometimes the shadows took on forms. Unfriendly forms. Even now she couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched. And yet apart from the four of them, there was nary a soul in sight.

We should change that.

'Go on, lead the way, Miks!' They had a party to attend, and he knew the way back to it, if his oh-so stoic demeanour was anything to go by. 'Sweet Vyn here has a thirst. What was it you wanted again...? Warm goat's milk? Or was it some o' that coffee we stol- uh, I mean, requisitioned on the Road South?' Xenovia wasn't sure whether either of those options would agree with Little Vyn. But then neither would alcohol.
 
Sometimes being a person meant feeling like a souppot. Buncha stuff flowing and swishing round to keep it all in balance. Funny how more liquid often lessened balance, but you ate anything heavy enough and your butt wasn't leaving the ground. A skootch to the leftlaying position was best you could do. Guess that made the lil' guy one of those things that curdled when you didn't soup right. But you couldn't name a kid Curdle...could you? Suppose you could...but she was in the business of making little people not lifelong enemies. Sides, names were supposed to be funnier than that. Judging by how often she had to pee lately, she had a much more fitting name in mind – even if it did sound like a bit of a title.

Speaking of sloshing around...even the gentle pull at her hands felt like the jug shaken out of position.

„Oi! You're gonna make me leak!“ And she was doing plenty of that already.

„Am not even pulling that hard...“ But Jenna's grip did lessen. „Come now, silkworm. We'll be real gentle.“ She wasn't too flimsy with it. Made Vyn appreciate her more. Suppose someone treating you as fragile was bullshit...especially when you were.

„Right right, off we go.“ Mikael took the lead, step unsure.

„Working theory is that coffee is of evil.“ Vyn confided in Xen. „If it wasn't, wouldn't be in such a rush to make a run for it with your pee...“

„They might not let us back in...“ Wasn't like him to be this mopey. It was usually the stick up the ass quiet.

„Oooh...What did you do?“ The gossipmonger would most certainly not make a song of it. Couldn't happen. Would never.

She could already see Bran looking their way from a distance, arms crossed.

Must've been something juicy.
 
'And who came up with that theory, I wonder? Not you, surely?' Smirking, Xen frogmarched Vyn through the camp alongside Mik and Jenna. Left, right, left. 'I didn't do nothing!' Mikael replied, sounding frail and whiny. Bran's fault. Probably couldn't handle the scrutiny. 'I just, well, said some things. Y'know, harmless things.'

'Sure you did!' Jenna was all smiles beside Vyn. 'And the rest!'

'The rest of what?!' Mikael exclaimed, his Jem impression coming apart at the seams. 'With the Eight as my witness, I swear, here and now, that I didn't do nothing. At least nothing bad.' Jen blew a raspberry at that, and Xen grinned, because why not?

'Don't s'pose it matters either way,' she interrupted, the clatter of platters and the clink of cups offering her words some flavour. 'Bran or one o' the others will tell us. If anyone can winkle out a story, it's this one here,' a bump of hips, and a grin to cut the tension, thin as it was. A butterknife would have sufficed.

'Figures.' Jen nodded. 'She's the only sober one left. Should be easy breezy!'

'Jen! Can you stop?' The Moper, a bit less whiny now that they were within earshot of Bran.

'Alright, alright, I'll behave!' The half-blood smiled, turning to Vyn and Xen, a sly glimmer to her gaze. 'For now.'
 
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