Katia hurried through the woods as she had so many times in her life, but this time was different. She was panting from joy, not panic. Giddy, not tense. And most importantly, to her, at least, she was running to her husband, not away from a pursuer. Her curling horns caught on low-hanging leaves as her two dainty hooves left meagre, near-invisible tracks in the gentle moss. She grunted as she stopped and skidded a few inches, almost colliding with a large hooded figure in a deep purple she thought she recognized.
The clearing about them was gloomy in a gothic, romantic way. Crows watched the two as the figure turned to Katia and removed his hood. She yelped with glee as she saw his face, jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck. He embraced her in return, smiling, although his face still held concern.
"Oh, Max…" whispered Katia.
"Oh, Kat…" responded Maxence.
The two kissed, his fiery orange locks and her coffee brown ones merging to give the area a rare and welcome splash of color. After they were done, Maxence looked to his wife, his expression shifting between relieved and nervous.
"Kat, a group of sellswords were just here, if you'd arrived just an hour earlier-"
Maxence noticed her silence and examined her expression. She was grinning, it was playful, almost naughty.
"Remember what we did together the night before I left?" she asked slyly. Maxence let out a chuckle and held her close.
"I'd have to hit my head pretty hard to forget, why?"
Katia's face told him everything.
"Shut your mouth," he exclaimed, despite her not saying a word. He let go of her and paced in a small circle.
"Oh, oh no. No, you shouldn't be here!" he realized, his expression growing terrified.
Katia frowned and embraced him again.
"It's been almost a month, Max…" she almost pouted, knowing he couldn't resist her when she was like this. She knew it must be serious when his attitude didn't change whatsoever.
"This is serious. There's this new noble hiring sellswords to capture folk like us, and there's word of them looking for pregnant women. We need to hide you, now."
"Oh, Max…"
Kat sobbed heavily as she forced a kitchen knife through her husband's cheek. She pulled it towards her, slicing it open and kicking him to the ground. Three of his newly-acquired fangs were pulled from his surgically elongated maw by the blade and landed with a dreadful series of pats against his wife's baby bump. His pained shrieks were mangled, as if his own voice and the voices of a choir of demons were stitched together. Kat backed away as he writhed on the floor and ravaged the carpet with his grafted-on claws.
Max recovered just as his wife touched the knob of the cabin door and wetted it with his blood. He promptly and viscously lunged at her. With that, a shatter of glass, a visceral cracking sound and a hard thud. Max lay dead at his wife's feet, unhinged jaws biting lifelessly at her quivering left hoof.
A crossbow bolt went through the back of his head and out the front. The window that once stood framed behind the dining table was now scattered across it. A woman, human, dressed in dark grey sellsword attire climbed through the window frame and examined the humble cabin. The woman, despite not being much older than Kat, had a killer's demeanor built with gallons of blood and years of struggle. Kat's quivering worsened at the sight of her, causing her to fall to her knees.
"Get off your ass, we don't have much time" said the woman curtly, making her way to Kat.
She pressed her boot firmly on Max's back and pulled the arrow out with a grunt. She clutched Kat by the wrist and yanked her to her feet, both eliciting and ignoring a yelp from the woman.
"Move. It. I work for a woman who wants to help folk like you. I'm a good merc."
With what little reason she could muster at the moment, Kat supposed she had little choice but to trust her. She looked to her dead husband and cried as she was led away.
"Oh, Max…"
The sun was rising over the forest at the end of their journey. Kat had never been atop a horse before, she quite liked it. The sellsword stopped abruptly at the rose-vine-coated gate of a large, rustic house just outside the woods. She expertly hopped down from the horse and tugged Kat's arm to prompt her to copy. Kat nervously peered down from the animal to the ground. She short, thin and five months pregnant, cause for concern.
The sellsword snapped her fingers, "Down, now."
"M-Ma'am, that's quite a drop, I worry for the baby."
The sellsword cursed under her breath before too-roughly and too-quickly grabbing Kat and lifting her down. Having learned from the multiple scoldings she had gotten on the ride there, Kat refrained from yelping that time and simply followed her guide to the front door. The sellsword knocked and an enormous human man in butler's garb answered.
"Package?" he asked, his voice like thunder.
"Five months pregnant female satyr. Slightly underweight, possible cold. Early twenties."
"Proceed."
The butler allowed the two in and took the sellsword's coat. Kat quite liked the decoration, it was that of a kindly grandmother, or cheery housewife. Both things she had longed to one day be. Tears began to run down her face as they entered a parlor. On an elegant black chaise rested a young woman with striking golden curls and piercing emerald eyes that matched her priceless-looking morning gown. She turned to the three and smiled sweetly.
"Madame Rosalie, a sellsword has brought that satyr woman you wished to aid," said the butler.
Rosalie let out a squeal of delighted surprise at his words and quickly arose, hurrying over to Kat. She lifted Kat's head by the chin and inspected her face. She turned to the sellsword curiously.
"Uninjured?" she queried, her expression turning serious.
The sellsword nodded, "Always. Possibly with a cold. And I had to put down her husband."
Rosalie's eyes widened and she put her hands to her mouth in horror. She embraced Kat snugly and stroked her hair.
"You poor, poor girl! Pregnant, starving, ill, and widowed. I can't even imagine. Please, sit by the fire. Wren, my butler, will prepare you a room and meal."
Kat, entranced, obeyed, but the helpless confusion on her face was quickly noticed by Rosalie.
"Oh, sweet girl, you're quite safe. For as long as I can remember, it was my dream to seek out the helpless and abused and offer them salvation. Freedom, new heights. I heard of a satyr hiding from mercenaries with his pregnant wife and simply couldn't refuse aid. I swear upon the soul of my late mother, I will protect your babe with my life, and the two of you will live long lives."
Kat smiled faintly at the reassurance, it was the first time in a long time that she had been offered any kindness from someone not her husband, let alone this caliber.
"What's your name, dear?" asked Rosalie.
"Katia, ma'am, they call me Kat."
"What a pretty name…"
Wren entered, signaling with a grunt that he had completed his task. Rosalie perked up and smiled at Kat warmly.
"Ah, that's the food and room prepared. I'm sure you'll want to eat alone and nap. Off you go, sweetie!" chirped Rosalie as Kat cautiously approached the butler, which was also noticed by Rosalie.
"Oh, Wren is simply a peach. Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of muscle readily available, he really is the sweetest boy."
Kat let out a small chuckle and followed Wren. At the end of a long corridor of rooms, he opened the door to hers with a bow. It was fancier than any place she had ever slept it. Like a princess's, pink and white in theme. The bed had curtains! Kat gorged herself on the carefully prepared tray of food before stripping down and eagerly burying herself in the bedsheets.
She tearfully looked to the ceiling, "Oh, Max.."
Kat awoke, it was dark outside. She had slept from morning to night, she truly was exhausted. Groggily, she looked through the wardrobe and slipped on a nightgown before stepping out into the corridor. She hadn't noticed until now just how empty the house was, but the oppressive dark just made the silence louder. Wren was stood across the hall right in front of her door, expression vacant, eyes following her tiredly. Had he been standing there all day? She smiled politely at him and turned to try and find Rosalie.
She followed the faint sound of conversation to an area she hadn't seen before, it looked like it might be an office. She put her ear to the closed door and heard the sellsword's raspy voice.
"So, I'll have the money tomorrow evening?" she asked.
Rosalie chuckled, "Of course! And it will set you up nicely. I just know it, this girl is going to be my best work yet!"
The sellsword whistled, "You are a different kind of cat, Miss. These… things you make-"
"I help them," said Rosalie.
The sellsword gasped silently and swallowed, "Understood. I should leave."
Kat was nearly knocked over by the sellsword hurrying out of the office, who looked at her almost… sadly? Rosalie approached Kat and embraced her.
"Come along, dear. I have something wonderful to show you."
Kat laughed nervously, "I-In a moment, ma'am. I forgot something in my room."
Rosalie said nothing as Kat hurried off.
Kat stopped for a moment as she passed the kitchen, Wren was in there, eating. Kat noticed for the first time that Wren never showed his teeth until now. His were that of a dog's, that of… Max's. He was devouring entrails that she prayed were an animal's. She also prayed that he didn't notice her as she hurried to get her clothes from her room.
When she got there, she noticed that the door next to hers was open. The room was completely empty save for a teenage girl in a deep burgundy maid uniform who was standing idly in the dead center of the sparse makeshift cell. Her eyes instantly locked onto Kat and she lunged, only to be yanked back by a chain latched onto an iron collar on her neck.
The girl shrieked in rage and snapped her wolfish teeth at the now frozen Kat, who didn't react as Wren sprinted up to her and forced her arms behind her back.
Rosalie's giggle echoed through the halls from behind Kat and Wren. Kat had never imagined such a sweet sound could terrify her so.
"I see you've met the maid-in-training! I've been meaning to staff up my house with one or two people a tad less intimidating than Sweet Wren, no offense to him, of course. I do hope you like the maid's quarters, dear, I try so hard to make my servants feel at home."
Katia simply stood still, staring into Rosalie's sweet, loving eyes as tears streamed down her own.
Rosalie giggled sweetly and booped her new chambermaid on the nose.
"Oh, Kat.."