It was, officially, spring.
So, of course, Mother Nature had dumped over a foot of snow on the city over the past twenty-four hours.
Christian paused to wipe sweat from his forehead with the back of one forearm. The exertion of shovelling snow off the few feet of walkway to the public sidewalk and, because the city could take a long time to get to this quieter street, the sidewalk itself along the frontage of their property, was certainly keeping him warm, even in just jeans and a sweatshirt. The afternoon was pleasantly mild now, the sun-glare on the snow muted by the intermittent clouds drifting by, and he didn’t really mind being out.
Birds were singing, staking out their territories and advertising for mates, including the charming little black-capped chickadees that stayed all year and frequented the bird feeders in the back yard. Squirrels were out, too, two-thirds of them black and the other third grey, scavenging for whatever they could find; one ran along a power line above with some kind of fist-sized bread product, nearly overbalancing and falling from the weight of its treasure.
Rusty-red flashed, jerking his attention in the direction of the street.
A red fox stumbled out from between two houses across the road, and made its way directly towards Christian.
He drove the shovel into the snow next to the walkway and dropped to a crouch. With a mundane fox, it would be a very bad idea, but this one had a liminal aura, and was limping besides; one hip was matted and damp, and the fox was trying not to put weight on it.
“Are you hurt? Can I help?”
The fox looked up at him and gave him a high-pitched whine.
“I’m going to pick you up, okay? We can go in the house and I’ll see what I can do to help. I don’t mean to be rude or presumptuous, but it looks like you’re having trouble walking. Is that all right?”
The fox made an odd staccato chittering noise, and bobbed ens head in a nod.
Christian very carefully gathered en up, taking great care to support the injured hind leg. The fox leaned against him with no resistance at all.
The ground floor porch front door was virtually always locked, but it was familiar to him and it took him only a few seconds to unlock it with a telekinetic touch. He used one foot to shove the door closed behind him, and kicked off his running shoes so he wouldn’t track snow everywhere.
There were a couple of sturdy mismatched wooden tables along the long windowed wall; there were ramps up to them, allowing patients to sit there and watch the outside world, but they also gave him an examination surface. He settled the fox gently on one of the tables, on a worn folded blanket.
The fox sat up, injured leg extended at an odd angle.
Something flickered, and suddenly the fox was a diminutive young woman with pale creamy skin and rust-red hair straggling out of a pony-tail. Christian was bad at identifying anyone’s origins, human or liminal, but kitsune had first contacted this plane in Japan and her features looked consistent with that. Her rose and sky-blue dress bared her collarbone, narrowed at her waist, and fell to mid-calf, but it had been ripped on one hip.
“Thank you so much, witch! I got distracted and didn’t see a car coming in time. I was on my way here anyway, to pay my respects to you and to ask whether you know how to contact the lamia who has the territory marked so thoroughly.”
The sudden slightly-accented flood left Christian several steps behind. “I... yes, I do know how to reach the local lamia, but can I ask why?”
“Because I’ve been travelling and I happened to find myself here and I wanted to ask both you and her whether it would be acceptable for me to spend a little time here. Just for a couple of weeks or so, to see the sights and explore and all.” She drooped visibly. “Although it might take me a bit longer, since now I need time to heal.”
“Right. Okay. Slow down, please. Do you have a name you can tell me? I’m Christian.”
“Oh! Yes. I suppose in English... Pearl would be close enough. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Christian.”
“Likewise, Pearl. How badly are you hurt?”
“Well, it hurts, and I’m definitely not going to be running properly for a few days. Kitsune heal quickly, though.”
“Is there anything you need? I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure I’ve never met a kitsune before so I don’t know even the basics.”
Pearl laughed, a sound that reminded him of that chattery noise she’d made as a fox. “Lots of people have never met a kitsune. Lots of them are even witches. Somewhere safe to sleep would be very helpful. Perhaps a little food. That’s all. Kitsune aren’t predators. We’re playful and we’re often tricksters but we don’t usually do any harm. And I’m not a very strong kitsune.” Her form flickered again; her dress remained, but the body beneath became that of an anthropomorphic red fox with two tails behind her. A few heartbeats later, she looked human again. “I never had any intention of causing any trouble even before I got hurt.”
Kitsune with higher status, or power, or experience, or something, got more tails and maxed out at nine, he knew that at least. “All right. I believe you. But I do need to make sure that the resident lamia is okay with that. We, um, we work together, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. She ignores small weak liminals but any kitsune is significant enough for her to care about your presence.”
“Oh, of course! I wasn’t sure whether you were even in contact with her. That’s, ah, really unusual. It was absolutely astonishing to find lamia marks on a city this size where I’d heard there was a witch family. It seemed more likely that there was either an uneasy truce or you might not even know about her. But if you’re on friendly terms with her, then the last thing I would ever want is to disrupt that! That’s just too singular and it’s something to treasure.”
“Thank you for understanding. I do treasure that relationship. I’ll ask her. At the very outside, I’ll try to make sure she agrees to letting you hang around at least until you recover.”
“I’d be really grateful. I’d feel terrible about accepting hospitality for days without offering something in return. I don’t have anything truly powerful I could teach you, but I’m good at some kinds of mind powers. Do you know how to get into an animal’s head to use its senses? It doesn’t hurt it or anything, you’re just being a passive observer and they sometimes don’t even notice. Except cats, they usually do, but if they know and like you they usually don’t mind. It’s very useful for taking a look at an area without drawing attention to yourself.”
Christian started to tell her that she didn’t have to give him anything, but paused. “I... that could actually be very useful sometimes, when I’m dealing with unfriendly liminals, and to keep an eye on my feral cat colony. But I’d rather you concentrated on your health.” It was probably a bad idea to offend even a low-status and friendly-seeming kitsune by refusing outright, and it was intriguing, but... priorities.
“It won’t interfere. If anything, kitsune get bored very easily, and having something to do would be a huge relief. I could probably teach you how to do it. Just my way of saying thank you for being kind to a fox who had some bad luck.”
“All right. It sounds fascinating. I’m sorry, but... I’m going to have to ask you to please stay here in the porch, and not come in the main house. There are a lot of defences on it, and a number of resident liminals who will be upset if there’s an unfamiliar liminal in their space.” Alexandra especially would be pushed right over the edge of tolerance by that. “They live here, and I need to respect that. This porch has protections too but they’re set up to make this a separate space. I can bring out an electric heater if it’s going to be too chilly. I... oh. Are you going to need the bathroom?” How on earth could he make that work?
Pearl chuckled. “I can switch to fox and go outside. Or use a litter box, for that matter. I’d switch planes but that could be uncomfortable and potentially risky with an injury. Please don’t fret. A warm safe place to recover for a few days is plenty. As long as you don’t completely forget me and leave me alone here to get bored.”
“I’ll, um, see what I can find that you can use to keep yourself entertained when I have to do other things. Music, books, there must be something. There’s a door to the back yard down at the other end, if you want to go outside in a safe place—there are feral cats that live out there, and if you could please not mess with them, I’d appreciate it.”
“That sounds absolutely reasonable. I mean no harm at all to your friends, feline or liminal or otherwise.”
“I think we understand each other really well. If anything else comes to mind that you need, please just let me know, and I’ll do my best. Would you like some tea so you can warm up? I’ll send a message to the lamia while I make it.” Mark was probably still home, in fact, since it was early in the day.
“That would be wonderful! Will you join me?”
“Sure. I’d love to.” The shovelling could wait a bit. After all, the responsible thing to do would be to keep an eye on her until Alexandra had agreed to this. If it gave him a chance to sit and enjoy a friendly conversation with a liminal of a species he’d never encountered, that was just a bonus.
It was, officially, spring.
So, of course, Mother Nature had dumped over a foot of snow on the city over the past twenty-four hours.
Christian paused to wipe sweat from his forehead with the back of one forearm. The exertion of shovelling snow off the few feet of walkway to the public sidewalk and, because the city could take a long time to get to this quieter street, the sidewalk itself along the frontage of their property, was certainly keeping him warm, even in just jeans and a sweatshirt. The afternoon was pleasantly mild now, the sun-glare on the snow muted by the intermittent clouds drifting by, and he didn’t really mind being out.
Birds were singing, staking out their territories and advertising for mates, including the charming little black-capped chickadees that stayed all year and frequented the bird feeders in the back yard. Squirrels were out, too, two-thirds of them black and the other third grey, scavenging for whatever they could find; one ran along a power line above with some kind of fist-sized bread product, nearly overbalancing and falling from the weight of its treasure.
Rusty-red flashed, jerking his attention in the direction of the street.
A red fox stumbled out from between two houses across the road, and made its way directly towards Christian.
He drove the shovel into the snow next to the walkway and dropped to a crouch. With a mundane fox, it would be a very bad idea, but this one had a liminal aura, and was limping besides; one hip was matted and damp, and the fox was trying not to put weight on it.
“Are you hurt? Can I help?”
The fox looked up at him and gave him a high-pitched whine.
“I’m going to pick you up, okay? We can go in the house and I’ll see what I can do to help. I don’t mean to be rude or presumptuous, but it looks like you’re having trouble walking. Is that all right?”
The fox made an odd staccato chittering noise, and bobbed ens head in a nod.
Christian very carefully gathered en up, taking great care to support the injured hind leg. The fox leaned against him with no resistance at all.
The ground floor porch front door was virtually always locked, but it was familiar to him and it took him only a few seconds to unlock it with a telekinetic touch. He used one foot to shove the door closed behind him, and kicked off his running shoes so he wouldn’t track snow everywhere.
There were a couple of sturdy mismatched wooden tables along the long windowed wall; there were ramps up to them, allowing patients to sit there and watch the outside world, but they also gave him an examination surface. He settled the fox gently on one of the tables, on a worn folded blanket.
The fox sat up, injured leg extended at an odd angle.
Something flickered, and suddenly the fox was a diminutive young woman with pale creamy skin and rust-red hair straggling out of a pony-tail. Christian was bad at identifying anyone’s origins, human or liminal, but kitsune had first contacted this plane in Japan and her features looked consistent with that. Her rose and sky-blue dress bared her collarbone, narrowed at her waist, and fell to mid-calf, but it had been ripped on one hip.
“Thank you so much, witch! I got distracted and didn’t see a car coming in time. I was on my way here anyway, to pay my respects to you and to ask whether you know how to contact the lamia who has the territory marked so thoroughly.”
The sudden slightly-accented flood left Christian several steps behind. “I... yes, I do know how to reach the local lamia, but can I ask why?”
“Because I’ve been travelling and I happened to find myself here and I wanted to ask both you and her whether it would be acceptable for me to spend a little time here. Just for a couple of weeks or so, to see the sights and explore and all.” She drooped visibly. “Although it might take me a bit longer, since now I need time to heal.”
“Right. Okay. Slow down, please. Do you have a name you can tell me? I’m Christian.”
“Oh! Yes. I suppose in English... Pearl would be close enough. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Christian.”
“Likewise, Pearl. How badly are you hurt?”
“Well, it hurts, and I’m definitely not going to be running properly for a few days. Kitsune heal quickly, though.”
“Is there anything you need? I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure I’ve never met a kitsune before so I don’t know even the basics.”
Pearl laughed, a sound that reminded him of that chattery noise she’d made as a fox. “Lots of people have never met a kitsune. Lots of them are even witches. Somewhere safe to sleep would be very helpful. Perhaps a little food. That’s all. Kitsune aren’t predators. We’re playful and we’re often tricksters but we don’t usually do any harm. And I’m not a very strong kitsune.” Her form flickered again; her dress remained, but the body beneath became that of an anthropomorphic red fox with two tails behind her. A few heartbeats later, she looked human again. “I never had any intention of causing any trouble even before I got hurt.”
Kitsune with higher status, or power, or experience, or something, got more tails and maxed out at nine, he knew that at least. “All right. I believe you. But I do need to make sure that the resident lamia is okay with that. We, um, we work together, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. She ignores small weak liminals but any kitsune is significant enough for her to care about your presence.”
“Oh, of course! I wasn’t sure whether you were even in contact with her. That’s, ah, really unusual. It was absolutely astonishing to find lamia marks on a city this size where I’d heard there was a witch family. It seemed more likely that there was either an uneasy truce or you might not even know about her. But if you’re on friendly terms with her, then the last thing I would ever want is to disrupt that! That’s just too singular and it’s something to treasure.”
“Thank you for understanding. I do treasure that relationship. I’ll ask her. At the very outside, I’ll try to make sure she agrees to letting you hang around at least until you recover.”
“I’d be really grateful. I’d feel terrible about accepting hospitality for days without offering something in return. I don’t have anything truly powerful I could teach you, but I’m good at some kinds of mind powers. Do you know how to get into an animal’s head to use its senses? It doesn’t hurt it or anything, you’re just being a passive observer and they sometimes don’t even notice. Except cats, they usually do, but if they know and like you they usually don’t mind. It’s very useful for taking a look at an area without drawing attention to yourself.”
Christian started to tell her that she didn’t have to give him anything, but paused. “I... that could actually be very useful sometimes, when I’m dealing with unfriendly liminals, and to keep an eye on my feral cat colony. But I’d rather you concentrated on your health.” It was probably a bad idea to offend even a low-status and friendly-seeming kitsune by refusing outright, and it was intriguing, but... priorities.
“It won’t interfere. If anything, kitsune get bored very easily, and having something to do would be a huge relief. I could probably teach you how to do it. Just my way of saying thank you for being kind to a fox who had some bad luck.”
“All right. It sounds fascinating. I’m sorry, but... I’m going to have to ask you to please stay here in the porch, and not come in the main house. There are a lot of defences on it, and a number of resident liminals who will be upset if there’s an unfamiliar liminal in their space.” Alexandra especially would be pushed right over the edge of tolerance by that. “They live here, and I need to respect that. This porch has protections too but they’re set up to make this a separate space. I can bring out an electric heater if it’s going to be too chilly. I... oh. Are you going to need the bathroom?” How on earth could he make that work?
Pearl chuckled. “I can switch to fox and go outside. Or use a litter box, for that matter. I’d switch planes but that could be uncomfortable and potentially risky with an injury. Please don’t fret. A warm safe place to recover for a few days is plenty. As long as you don’t completely forget me and leave me alone here to get bored.”
“I’ll, um, see what I can find that you can use to keep yourself entertained when I have to do other things. Music, books, there must be something. There’s a door to the back yard down at the other end, if you want to go outside in a safe place—there are feral cats that live out there, and if you could please not mess with them, I’d appreciate it.”
“That sounds absolutely reasonable. I mean no harm at all to your friends, feline or liminal or otherwise.”
“I think we understand each other really well. If anything else comes to mind that you need, please just let me know, and I’ll do my best. Would you like some tea so you can warm up? I’ll send a message to the lamia while I make it.” Mark was probably still home, in fact, since it was early in the day.
“That would be wonderful! Will you join me?”
“Sure. I’d love to.” The shovelling could wait a bit. After all, the responsible thing to do would be to keep an eye on her until Alexandra had agreed to this. If it gave him a chance to sit and enjoy a friendly conversation with a liminal of a species he’d never encountered, that was just a bonus.
