Sept 8th Day 1 – Dinner time
“Why did you bring me this?” Freya asked with disgust as she looked at the large bloody rat that Beryl had just placed in front of her. She’d seen these filthy large rats before and had always elected to go around them. She had heard that cats did this as a sign of affection, “Thank you, but I do not want your-” Freya paused for a moment as she considered her next words carefully, “Gift.”
“Are you sure? Lilith was getting low on food and soup will not have the protein you need.”
Freya spluttered for a moment, looking up at Beryl with shock, “You want me to eat a rat?!”
“What? You’re not a vegetarian are you?”
“No, but this is not even cooked!” One of the legs of the rat twitched and it blinked. “It’s still alive!”
“Yes…you’re welcome?”
Sept 9th Day 2 – Early morning
Freya started the day by starting to build a little trust between her and Beryl. She couldn’t be seen to be doing it quickly or it would make the cat suspicious. She started by asking Beryl if their fever had gotten any worse over the night.
“Maybe, but I think I’ll live.” Beryl’s confidence would have been more convincing if they were not laying on the ground in a different corner from yesterday. They had just finished changing their own bandages and had not put back on the shirt they’d had on. “Thank you for asking, Red.”
Freya raised her brows and looked around for a moment, though there was no one else Beryl could be talking to, “Red?”
“It’s a nickname I just thought up for you.” Beryl said with a feverish pride as they handed Freya one of her shots. “Don’t worry, it’s a compliment. Everyone in Babbage knows Red-heads are dangerous.”
Sept 10th Day 3 – Early morning
Freya had decided that today she would be the first to start the conversation. Last night the two had shared stories about their fondest memories of Lilith. She had let a few things slip, but nothing that could hurt her family.
When she saw Beryl’s ear twitch lightly she replied in a reluctant though respectful tone, “Good morning, ma’am.”
The cat shook their head slowly and sounded amused, “Don’t call me ma’am.”
This confused Freya, the bandages made things rather clear but they ‘had’ been wearing a men’s suit. Freya tried again apologetically, “I’m sorry, sir.”
“No, Red, that is-this is not what I meant,” the cat chuckled slightly then went on in a tired voice. “If I was a doctor I’d still want you to just call me Beryl or Strifeclaw. Formality just makes me uncomfortable.”
“Alright, Beryl,” Freya said using their name for the first time and saying it as respectuflly as she could. It occurred to her now that she still did not know what pronoun she should use when addressing the cat. Gaining their trust was going to be harder than she thought.
.
Sept 10th Day 3 Evening
“That soup was really good, Red,” Beryl addressed Freya from the floor where they had lapped it out of a bowl. They had been moving less and less frequently while Freya’s leg had healed enough that she could limp on it. After a moment Beryl added, “Thank you for not poisoning it.”
Freya had considered poisoning the broth a few times but the cupboard hadn’t possessed anything deadly or even soporific. She was curious to know how Beryl had known so she could be ready in the future, she crossed her arms and looked down at the cat, “What makes you so sure I did not?”
“The big clue was when I didn’t drop dead after eating half of it. I am a rather slow eater.” Beryl had made light of the situation again. Freya was no longer sure how much of their behavior was delirium or a naturally morbid sense of humor. “I was thinking Red, last night we told stories about Lilith and I thought maybe tonight we can talk about other family. I’ve got a cousin named Myn and a few stories about an exceptionally neurotic cat named Arnold.”
Freya watched them closely. They seemed to be looking forward to sharing tonight. The vixen didn’t respond right away, letting Beryl wait, and then finally she said, “Freya.”
Beryl looked up at her confused, and the fox repeated, “My name is Freya.”
The way that Beryl purred lightly made Freya feel like she had achieved a victory.
Sept 11th – Day 4 – Late night.
They had both shared stories tonight about their families, but it had soon made Freya uncomfortable. She tried to tell stories about Kuga and Lilith but they all returned to Prometheus eventually.
“Do you miss them?” Beryl had moved a little since last night and that seemed to be a good sign. Freya nodded, seeing nothing to gain in being dishonest about it. “I miss my family, sometimes.” Beryl let out an audible sigh of regret. After a few moments they looked at Freya, “If you choose to return to them I’ll take you there myself.”
Four days ago Freya would have thought this offer was a trick. But she doubted that Beryl’s friends would have allowed her to continue any kind of ruse while her wounds went without proper treatment. If there was anyone watching the rooftops they had not seen Beryl in all that time and she doubted they would have waited this long. “You really would take me back wouldn’t you?”
“I was always going to,” Beryl admitted, their eyes involuntarily closing so they were only half open now. Once again they checked their own temperature. “But I suspected you would want to run so I couldn’t follow you.”
“You always thought I would choose to go back?” Freya waited until Beryl nodded before she continued, “Don’t you know that if you let me go you would be considered an accomplice?”
“This would not be the first time.” Beryl rose from the floor slightly to look at Freya, head cocked to the side and their body swaying along with their tail. “When I choose to protect you, you became my charge. I am on your side for the moment, Freya. Whatever you choose, I choose. Whoever tries to stop you becomes my enemy as well until you heal. That is just my nature.” After a moment they stopped checking their temperature to make a shushing gesture towards Freya. “But could you do me the favor of never telling Bookworm any of this? I think she secretly wants to kill me for all the other times I’ve done something this stupid.”
Freya inwardly smiled. “I won’t. But you had better have some less depressing stories tomorrow night.”
Sept 12th Day 5 Early morning
Freya’s fever had completely broken by the fifth morning, her own medicine had helped her fight off the foreign infection from the wolf, but Beryl was not so fortunate.
Freya inspected the wounds for Beryl every day but nothing had improved. At least they did not look like the infection was out of control or giving way to gangrene. And she saw no signs that Beryl was becoming feral. Well, ferocious anyways. It still shocked Freya the way that Beryl moved around on all fours and did not mind eating from bowls placed on the floor.
She was looking forward to sharing stories tonight, choosing to focus on the happy times she had with her family might be what she needed to get over her fear. She tried to tell herself this repeatedly, but she could not completely reassure herself.
September 13th – Day 6 – Lunch time
Freya had told Beryl about her job in the family, how she was the messenger that connected everyone hidden in the field. Today was the first time that Beryl had requested something that made Freya uncomfortable: Relaying a message that might hurt her brothers to Tepic.
Beryl was oblivious to her plight. The feline had spent most of the day trying to rest fitfully and her waking moments were starting to loose their lucidity. They seemed to have forgotten that these were Freya’s brothers, and was trying to get word to Tepic while they could. Freya still remembered the first time she had met that boy and gave him and his friends a few bruises.
The thing that terrified her was just how torn she was, and it was not out of her desire to help Beryl. The thing that shook Freya was that part of her felt compelled to deliver the message. She had never felt a conflicting desire to stay true to her family and to deliver a message that may hurt them. She had thought that she had naturally enjoyed her role in helping her family, but could this mean she had been conditioned to like her job? Her strong doubts about going back to Prometheus and the master continued to grow, but against the need she felt to eventually return she did not know what she could do about it.
Sept 14th – End of the Week – Breakfast (Final)
Freya was going to deliver Beryl’s message to the fox-boy ‘Tepic’ later today. She did not think that he would even believe her after she had torched his home. It would be an awkward meeting at best and at worst he would try to catch her or turn her against her family again. If he tried to catch her then she could run on her leg for short bursts, something she had tested last night.
She also wanted to force Beryl onto a wagon and drag them to the hospital, but even delirious they refused. In exasperations she shouted, “How do you know they can’t help you?!”
She had to repeat the question four more times before she would receive an answer that even hinted that Beryl was aware, “People…don’t believe…in werewolves. No…cure.”
Freya cursed herself for not realizing this sooner. Of course the hospital wouldn’t be carrying a cure for lycanthropy. That should have been obvious.
But there had to be *someone* in this city, someone that wasn’t just a snakeoil salesman or quack, that could help. She supposed she could ask Tepic when she delivered the message…