The walk back to Eastrenhold took the better part of two hours, though Kiva had lost track of exactly how long somewhere along the way. It probably would have gone faster if either of them had been capable of shutting up for more than five consecutive minutes. They’d heckled each other for nearly the entire trip.

It started with the hole, because Flannery had decided Kiva falling ass-first into the ground was going to stay funny until the end of time. Kiva retaliated by reminding her that she’d still won their chase. Somewhere after that, they circled back around to the stolen grouse, and exactly how much responsibility Kiva had accepted when she’d made the questionable decision to invite this woman home with her. It was easy. Stupid, but easy.

Kiva couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent this long walking beside someone without running out of things to say. Even when their conversation briefly died, it never stayed dead for long. One of them would make some smartass comment, the other would take the bait, and off they went again. There was, however, one subject Kiva had very carefully avoided for the entirety of the journey.

You’re pretty fuckin’ gorgeous yourself.

Nope. Absolutely fucking not. She hadn’t thought about it when they left the meadow. She hadn’t thought about it twenty minutes later. She definitely hadn’t thought about it every single time she glanced sideways at Flannery during the walk and became painfully aware that, yes, the woman was still just as pretty as she’d been while tangled up with Kiva in the grass. So, naturally, Kiva handled the situation like a proper adult: She pretended it had never happened.

By the time Eastrenhold territory finally began appearing around them, Kiva had almost managed to convince herself that this strategy was working. Her pace picked up slightly as they made their way toward Eastborne, relief slipping into her expression at the familiarity of the land around them. “See?” she said, glancing toward Flannery. “Made it all the way here without you getting lost or being stolen. I’d say I’ve been an excellent captor.” A beat passed before she added more. “And before you say anything, tackling you was still not cheating.”

With that settled for what was probably the sixth (and absolutely not final) time, Kiva turned her attention toward the castle ahead. She’d offered to bring Flannery back with her, which meant she ought to show her around instead of dumping her somewhere and wishing her luck. Besides, Kiva knew Eastborne. She knew the castle, knew the people here, and most importantly, knew where all the holes in the ground were for the most part.

As they drew closer, Kiva spotted a few familiar and unfamiliar faces scattered around the grounds, and an idea occurred to her. Her ears perked. “Heeeey!” There was absolutely no hesitation before Kiva raised her voice toward anyone within earshot. “I brought a friend back with me!”

She gestured toward Flannery with a paw as though presenting evidence. “I’m giving her a tour of the castle. Anyone wanna come with us?”

Only after the invitation had left her mouth did one particular word circle back around: Friend. Huh. Kiva glanced sideways at Flannery. Well, she supposed that was what they were, wasn’t it? Unless there was another word for woman I met earlier today who stole my lunch, watched me fall into a hole, made me chase her across a meadow, called me gorgeous, and then followed me home. Friend was way easier!

“And,” Kiva added, this time pointedly toward Flannery, “I would like everyone to know that our guest has promised to be on her best behavior.” There! Surely, nothing could go wrong. Only time would tell.

Flannery had learned several important things during the walk back. First, Kiva was ridiculously easy to annoy. Second, the hole was never going to stop being funny. Third, Kiva remained completely fucking delusional about tackling someone from behind being a respectable way to win a race.

You ded cheat she insisted, trotting alongside Kiva with no concern whether the subject had already been exhausted. Dahn't care 'ow many fancy ambassadahr wahrds you use fahr it. You grabbed me and 'auled me into de dirt like sahme kend o' lunatic Never mind that Flannery herself had charged directly at Kiva to throw her off. That was different. When Kiva declared herself an excellent captor, Flannery snorted loudly.

Excellent? You fed me 'alf a mangled bird two bloody 'ooehrs ago and den marched me acrahss 'alf de cooehntryside. she bumped her shoulder against Kiva’s as she walked, too familiar for someone she’d met that afternoon. Her attention wandered freely as unfamiliar territory began giving way to something more settled. Her head turned this way and that without an ounce of subtlety, staring at whatever caught her interest. By the time the castle came into view, she went quiet for a few seconds. Foehck me she breathed, staring upward.

She was still looking it over when Kiva's voice raised, I brought a friend back with me! Something unexpectedly warm settled beneath her ribs. Stupid, really. They’d known each other for barely any time at all most of which they’d spent insulting one another, but Flannery liked the sound of it more than she would admit. Friend? Her grin spread Aw, Kiva. Dooehght I was yooehr prahperty

Then Kiva announced to everyone that Flannery had promised to behave and she paused. Oi! she barked, Stahp tellin' people dat like i'm sahme feral lettle bastard you dragged in ahff de road! She pushed forward before Kiva could answer, deciding that if strangers were already being invited along there was no reason to stand politely waiting for introductions.

I’m Flannery! she announced to the nearest collection of faces, tail swaying behind her. She fed me, tackled me, threatened to sken me alive if I embarrassed 'er, and now I live 'ere apparently

Nailed it.

---

KIVA.