Respite at the Inn

Fox on the Run

After a long while of contemplation, staring out of the window and at my naked reflection in the glass pane, I put on my bodice and my short skirt, my heeled boots and turn toward the door. My eyes wander over to the table with the washing basin and the jug of water -- I maybe should clean myself but I kinda love the way I feel dirty -- a good kind of dirty, totally new to me. I can still smell my two partners of the night on me, mixed with my own body odours. I'll clean myself, of course, but - maybe not before I get home...

I look into the mirror above the toiletries - the existence of it is a luxury that doesn't seem to befit this little Inn -- this may be the best room available in the village, but still... I only have a four inch disk of polished metal to look at myself at home. I stare at my reflection -- I don't get to see it often, this image of myself is weird whenever I see myself thusly, but somehow - it looks even weirder this time.

My hair dark red with a golden hue in light like this is a curly mess. I had braided it for work as usual, but the braids fully dissolved last night and it now falls in waves down my shoulders. My green eyes shine brightly, like my hair a gift from my mother. People keep telling me I look more and more like her every day and I feel a pang of pain that my father never got to see me as an adult. Neither will mother see me grow in into a full woman. Which... kinda is why this reflection looks off, isn't it? More womanly? Adult? Or am I just imaging it due to - last night? My breasts are still as small as they were yesterday, slightly enhanced and pushed up by the bodice, my curves slender, only recently did the men stop calling me out for looking like a boy -- a little my forms seem to match their idea of a women more now that I am 18. It can't be my looks why I feel like a woman now...

With a shrug, I interrupt my silly musings, grab my new pouch - the jingling in it makes my mouth go dry - and tie it to my belt. Then change my mind and take it into my hand. I have never owned anything like it, I'll not let go of it.

I take a look at the bed -- should be my job to make it, but I still feel like a guest, not an employee, so I leave it as it is, get out the door and try to be as quite as possible coming down the stairs. I think everyone - the innkeeper included - should still be asleep. I'm in no mood to meet anyone I know.

As I walk home, slower than I usually do, I really need time to clear my mind, my future begins to form inside my head. A plan -- daring, brave, stupid, some -- many - of my fellow villagers might call it. But I will not miss this chance. I will no stay in this Gods forsaken place forever. What was a dim possibility behind the horizon just luring me, now seems more and more inevitable. Lately, this village, that was small and restrictive is beginning to feel like a trap. And if I don't seize this chance to leave it, I might fall back into it and never do.

When I reach my little house, in which I have been living alone for the last two years, I look at it, lost in thought. Would I miss it if I never see it again? I miss my mother every day, but she is no longer in there. Only the memories of her. As are the ones of my father, dimmer, fuzzier, so far gone. DO I need this? Or do I need...

From the stable of the house next door -- yes, they have an actual stable, it's much bigger house than my little one - I hear neighing. Like in response to wondering what I actually need right now. I nod. It is. Instead of opening my gate I take a step to the left one an open this one.

I knock on the door - it is open, of course, no one here locks their door, but I can't just walk inside. The door opens and my neighbour steps out - 40 something, thinning hair, carrying an impressive belly in front of him.

"What is it, what do you want?"

He squints, then his expression changes.

"Oh. It's you. Sorry, I didn't recognise ... you look..."

He squints again, unable to put into words, apparently, why he didn't recognise the girl he knows since I was born.

"Must be my hair, I'm not usually wearing it open."

He nods, with a frown.

"Hm, yeah. Gotta be. What can I do for you, lass?"

I see his eyes wander down my body, still in my work uniform. He has visited the Inn a lot lately, intensely staring at me. Here, somehow I don't really mind any more. His gaze on me feels... flattering. And it makes me feel surprisingly strong. I have something he deeply wants but it's mine to decide to give it to him. (Which I won't.)

"I..."

I struggle with finding words too, definitely The Plan in my had had been a little vague until now.

"I need your horse."

"Oh, do you. Planning a trip? Or a day in the woods? How long yo you want to borrow it then, dear?"

Nothing unusual. His family is one of the few owing their own horse who don't need it for field work. As good neighbour they let me borrow it often. And my Mon when she was still... As a matter of fact I pretty much learned to ride exclusively on this horse and her predecessor in this stable. But...

"I don't need to borrow it, I want to buy it."

His eyes open wide.

"BUY? Why in the netherworld you want to buy my horse? Not that it matters much, I seriously doubt you have enough money..."

I do, of course, now - enough money to by every single horse in this village. But I decided not to flaunt my new fortune and spend any of it back home. I do have something else. Something I don't need any more. Ever. Do I?

I turn my head to look at my little house.

"I need it to leave this place. And as I do -- you can have that."

I nod towards it.

"Have what?"

He's visibly confused.

"All of it. My house, the land it's on, everything in it. With the exception of the things I need to take with me, but that's not much, Just what I can carry."

He's blinking rapidly. He's not too smart, but smart enough to be a respected and well off citizen of our little hamlet.

"Why would I want your house, lassie?"

I sigh.

"For one it's bordering the creek. I know you'd like your plot to be at at the waterfront, even though we always let you cross ours to get there. And then -- it's good land. You'll figure something out how to use it, I'm sure!"

He hesitates still.

"Stop fooling around, you oaf!"

His wife calls from behind him, apparently having heard the whole conversation.

"Morning, lass. You want to leave us? Really? For good? Such a shame!"

Her face seems open, but I kinda doubt her regret is really heartfelt. I felt her looking at me strangely since her husband - also began looking at me with a changed gaze since I grew up shapely. Not as shapely as his curvy wife, but he seems to like the view when I tend my small garden. Or bath in the creek. I think his wife won't miss me. At all. Which her eagerness to close the deal proves to me.

"Our prize horse for your tiny cottage, then, eh?"

"And your saddle, bridle and saddlebags, if you don't mind."

I try to sound humble - I know technically I'm pulling a very short straw with this deal - it's a reliable decent horse they got in the stable maybe but no race winner, as my father used to say. He knew about horses, I remember that much about him. But right now and here, a horse to get away on seems so much more useful to me than a house anchoring me to this place.

"Deal!"

She holds out her hand.

"Now wait a second there, I'm still the man in this house, if anyone makes a deal like that it's me!"

He pushes down his wife's hand and spits into his. Disgusting habit, but I do as he did and shake his hand. I'd make a contract, but no one in this place is very fond of written words. Unlike mother and me...

"Alright then. I need to get ready, pack my stuff. I'll be here about noon to pick up my horse and leave you the keys to your new place!"

They nod, both more or less flabbergasted at how that happened as I turn my back and walk to what used to be my house. I open it and look around. Do I really want to leave the place?

But - well -- all the good memories I have for it are of my mother and - a lot more fuzzy and blurry -- of my father. Ever since I own it myself this place is nothing but a dead weight around my neck. I wouldn't miss it. What connects me to my past I will take with me.

First things first. I'm starving. Haven't eaten since early last evening and the time in between is taking it's toll. I need to break the fast, and a what a fast it was! Quite exhausting.

I snicker to myself as I move to the small wood stove and storage area. I take out the durable food I have - hard cheese, salted meats, dried fruit, hard cookies and put them aside. The trip to town shouldn't take me more than half a day with my new horse. And of course I have enough money to get food there, but better safe than sorry. Going on a journey - let alone one without return - without provisions seems just wrong. Half of my perishable food goes to a very hearty breakfast, the rest might be needed for lunch. Or second breakfast depending on how long preparations will take me.

With my belly stopping to rumble and post-eating relaxation replacing the weariness and exhaustion of hunger, I gather my thoughts and plan for the rest of the forenoon. I like mapping things out in my head -- I'd love to be able to write them down as a list, but of course paper is way too scarce for that luxury.

Eventually I get up and smell myself. I actuality like it - I smell the cool fresh aroma of the elf on me, the musky heavy scent of the half ogre -- both making my pussy tingle again, bringing my own smells to the foreground. I'd love to keep that reminder of my two new friends, but although the thought makes me kinda horny, that would probably be a little weird.

So I slip out of my skirt and bodice, take a short moment to touch my heated skin, feel the cool air on me -- my body feels as different as my mind this morning, grown, experienced. Adult.

Naked, I walk out to my small garden, towards the stream. I didn't turn around to see if my neighbour is at his window, as he is a often these days to catch a glimpse. If so, from his distance he won't be able to see more of me than my vague outline. Let him. Actually. I kinda like the thought. Being received as desirable seems a lot more flattering today that it did just yesterday. I dive into the cold water of the creek, gasping at the coolness invigorating me. I rinse my body off of the smell of last night, with a pang of regret. From my belly, my legs, my small breasts. Sigh as I touch my nipples letting my hand wander between my legs, passed the red bushy path and to my lips. I still don't dare to stay there longer than I have to, despite my pussy demanding more attention -- the priest's words against unnecessary touching ring in my head no matter how much I try to cast them aside. How I wish I could talk to my mother about the feelings I have for some years now. And today more and louder than ever.

I grab the bodice and the short skirt I wore at night and today, rinse them in the clear water of the creek... I decide to keep the set - I never felt comfortable in it when my boss Told me to wear it, but I can't deny the looks of my two new friends while I was in it last night flattered me. Made me feel seen in a way the men in this town never did. I'll not wear the outfit every day, but I'll take it with me.

Wet and clean, I step out of the cold water, lie down on the grass beside the creek in the warm morning sun for a few moments, dozing, feeling my skin and my hair dry. My thoughts drift to last night again unstoppably and at once, the aching between my leg becomes to strong to bear. I get up. Packing will distract me.

I grab my almost dry clothes and return to the house - still naked -- I never really minded being undressed around my home. But today it actually feels good. It's like my whole body was brought up to another level, as was my mind. Nakedness is no longer just absence of clothes, it is state of mind somehow now. I can feel myself like this.

I begin to gather the belongings I will take -- my most precious ones, my three books - go into one of the saddlebags. A book with children fairly tales, with which mother taught me to read as a child -- tales warning of fairies, that is, even though in this part of the world there are none around any more that actually snatch children, thank the Gods. My father's almanac of history and geography and meteorology - everything one needs to know when living in this land. And my mother's other, stranger volume of tales -- folk tales I reckon, interspersed with poems, whole pages in a language mother never taught me as well as ingredient lists an recipes. I love reading this since I grew older even though I understand maybe half of it. Sometimes the neighbour's wife lets me read her cookbook. I didn't ever get to read the holy texts in church, but of course they're not for the common folk. Let alone women. Says the priest.

The other saddlebag gets to hold the durable food, wrapped up in linen cloth. My spare clothes go into the pack I'll carry around my body, together with my hygiene articles -- my mother's silver hair brush, he brush for my teeth, the cloth-balls for my time of the month. And the new pouch with the gold. I'll not wear that on my belt. For that, I empty the chest with my life's savings. Just enough silver and copper coins to fill my old pouch - the whole content of which isn't worth as much as a single coin from my new one. But I cant throw those around like my new even friend as if my pouch was bottomless. That's a good way to spend them quickly, Or worse, get the attention of the wrong persons, so I'll need small coins.

Finally I dress myself in my tight leather pants - a little too tight, I made them before my body had fully formed and they're taut around my ass -- I did notice the looks when I wear them. Approving from some for the way the hug my butt, condemning by many for daring to wear indecent pants in the first place. A habit I got from my mother -- not a very popular one. She even inspired the priest to hold a sermon against women wearing men's clothes on more than one occasion. I like pants. Especially when riding. As much as I enjoy the thought of being seen with my bare legs today - and I really Do enjoy it... I feel myself blushing -- I won't ride in a skirt! My white blouse -- I leave the top strings closing it unfastened - it doesn't emphasise my breasts like the bodice does, they're too small for that, but it - allows them to... breathe. I giggle. And others to see a good part of them, but that's definitely not my intention...

A pair of brown over knee leather boots - my mother's - complete my outfit. I rarely wear those. Neither did my mother, they're very much travelling gear. I don't actually know if mother ever wore them, she never told me much about her time before settling in this village with father. They fit like gloves around my feet and calves, like they had waited for me to find the opportunity to put them on.

Put on my belt, attach the spare change pouch then move to my mother's room. My father's long dagger is in her closet -- for a woman of my stature it almost feels like a short sword. I attach it to my belt and finally pull the last two pieces of my travelling gear out. My fathers bright red cloak -- it barely reached his knees -- on me it almost comes down to the floor. And it's too warm for this season, but I wont' leave it here. It still smells like him. And I don't know where I'll be when the seasons turn to fall so I better be prepared. Wearing it loosely over my shoulder instead of wrapping it around me will do. And finally - my mother's cameo, a red stone with golden veins running through it that shimmer in different colours depending on the light. It's set in gold and carved into it is a running fox. Mother held it as her dearest possession, even though she never told me why. I couldn't leave it if my life depended on it. I hang it around my neck, the low neckline of my blouse means it touches my skin and feels warm there.

Looking down on myself, I wish I had a proper mirror here -- the red cloak, the fiery gem, combined with my red golden hair, open down my shoulders. I bet I'm a sight to behold. I smile. I sure remember how I was yesterday at this time of day. A little more modest for sure. I probably wouldn't have thought of myself as being -- a 'sight'. But it feels right. I feel -- myself. More than I did in a long time. Maybe more than ever. Something inside me has been opened. Set free. And the way I look truly reaffirms that.

I gather the remains of my breakfast and have a short second breakfast sitting at the table, then take the saddle bags, my pack -- under my cloak, as I learned it from mother. Then get the set of large iron keys -- I need to look for them for a while. I can't remember when I last locked the door - and step out of my house. Which kind of isn't my house any more at this exact moment. I blink up at the sky - the sun won't reach its midday zenith for a while, I'm still well on time.

I decide to walk straight to the stables, I'm not particularly fond of meeting the neighbours again - he's not a bad man, except for from his wandering eyes, which I couldn't care less abut in my current state of mind. He represents this village more than most people to me and I'm now ready to leave all of that far behind, more than ever. If I just take the horse, I can leave the keys at his door, maybe and...

As I walk into the dark building, I see his son grooming the horse and sigh. No reason, really, he's nice, but I'm not in the mood for goodbyes to anyone. Oh well. I clear my throat and he turns with a jump.

"Oh. Hey. You startled..."

"Sorry. Hello. Taking care of her, are you?"

He pats the white mare's flank and nods.

"Yes. I... did you really swap your whole HOUSE for her?"

I nod with a smile.

"Your Mom's a tough negotiator."

He frowns.

"She says you practically forced it onto my parents."

I shrug and smile back.

"Oh well. Maybe I did. Not too smart, little me."

"You're the smartest person I ever met..."

Not that he has met many people in his life here...

"A... are you really leaving? For good!"

I nod.

"I guess so. Haven't really made any plans. But I...I just.. well, I feel I've... outgrown this place. I can't..."

Out of words I shrug. His frown deepens, I'm pretty sure he wasn't following my admittedly less than comprehensive explanation.

"But I thought you... we.... I... "

I see him swallow hard.

"I'm gonna miss... her."

Her. He turns back to the horse an currycombs her fur. I sigh. He's a good boy. Really. He's nice. A few months older than me, not too smart, but nothing below average in this little village. He is kind and gentle, cares about the family, the animals. Me. He likes Me, I can tell. I know he had been hoping... well. If I hadn't changed my destiny dramatically within the course of the last 24 hours I might have indeed ended up as his wife one day. The choice in this place isn't big, he sure is one of the better ones. And I know his choices just went down drastically.

"There are a lot of good horses around. You'll find one you like. And who fits you better. One not -- too feral and wild and free."

Not an appropriate description for the horse we're talking about but I'm pretty sure he gets the metaphor, even if he doesn't know the word metaphor.

He turns around and his eyes are red now.

"What If I don't want another horse. I really like..."

I didn't want a goodbye, and I certainly don't want one with tears and sadness. Without thinking I follow my new instincts, let my newly found self confidence and skills take over. I press a kiss on his lips. Feel him tense, stumble a step back against the wooden wall of the stable. With my hands to the wall beside him, trapping him, I open my lips and let my tongue touch his lips until he gets it and reluctantly opens his lips. No doubt it's his first kiss.