The sky was a pale, unblemished blue as Rin rode out, dawn's light barely warming the frontier.
Mist clung to the grass, curling around her boots as she adjusted the saddle, her muscles taut beneath thin travel leathers.
Her cloak—new, stitched by Kio's hands the night before—hung heavy on her shoulders, deep gray like her hair, its wolf-bone buttons glinting faintly.
Her tail flicked once, a restless shadow against the horse's flank.
Kio stood in the tavern's doorway, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on her.
The morning air carried the scent of dew and woodsmoke, the tavern's hearth a faint hum behind him.
"You packed early," he said, his voice low, steady.
"Didn't sleep much," Rin replied, tightening a strap on her pack.
"Dreams or memories?"
"Both."
She turned, her golden eyes meeting his, sharp but stripped of their usual fire.
No bravado, no smirk—just a quiet resolve, the weight of someone who had to leave but longed to stay.
"Left coin in the usual drawer," she said. "Double rate."
"Won't take it."
"You will."
He didn't argue, his silence a concession.
Rin stepped closer, her scent washing over him—musk, sweat, a faint trace of citrus oil from her bath.
Her hand rested on his chest, fingers splaying over the fabric, grounding herself in his warmth. "I'll come back," she said, voice soft but firm. "Don't get sentimental."
"I'm not."
Her lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Liar."
Kio reached into his coat, drawing out a sealed scroll, its wax marked with a simple rune. He handed it to her.
"A map. Avoid the broken pass. There's a trap pit hidden under the road."
Rin's brow furrowed, her tail stilling. "You didn't leave the tavern."
"No."
She stared at him, searching his face, but found only the same unreadable calm.
Then she leaned in, kissing him—not with hunger or heat, but with a fullness that spoke louder than words.
Her lips pressed against his, lingering, a message etched in the quiet.
When she pulled back, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I hate leaving you."
"I know."
"Hate how good you make it feel."
"I know."
"And I really hate how bad I want to be punished again."
A faint smile curved his lips. "You will be."
Rin climbed into the saddle, the horse shifting beneath her, sensing her restless energy. She reined it steady, then glanced over her shoulder.
Lira leaned against the doorway now, arms crossed, her silver hair catching the dawn's light. Her emerald eyes watched in silence, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"You next?" Rin called, her grin flashing.
"Maybe," Lira shot back, her voice cool but laced with challenge.
"You'll cry faster than I did."
Lira's eyebrow arched. "You cried?"
"Three times," Rin said, her tail flicking proudly, a final wink in the morning haze.
She spurred her horse forward, the mist parting around her, her silhouette shrinking until the trees swallowed her whole.
Kio stood motionless, his gaze lingering on the road long after she vanished.
Then he turned, stepping back into the tavern's warmth.
The common room was still, its tables empty, the hearth's embers glowing faintly.