Ravyn was running out of bars in Shulan. Too many drinks led to a dangerous loss of inhibitions that led to having her name blacklisted from the establishment.

Whatever. Fuck ‘em.

She was so sick of the assholes in Shulan. On San Island. None of them remembered Finn or what he’d sacrificed to keep them safe and thriving. Now it was all about Cailu. The blonde elf cunt who expected more out of the girls in his Party than the damn Queen. Yomi could keep him. Seemed she’d forgotten about Finn, too.

Ravyn twisted the serpent band around her finger, and the echo of his hand in hers danced along her skin. She bit back the swelling hurricane of emotions in her chest and let her arm drop. She needed a drink. Now.

Turning off the bustling main roads of the illuminated city led to a twisted patch of seedier establishments. The places her mother had always warned her about. Gloomy, winding roads with darkened doorsteps that required passwords for entry. Many of the pick-pocketing kittens shared one-room living spaces in this part of town beneath their thieving elders. There were a few watering holes where a thirsty girl could find a drink, and while Ravyn didn’t exactly fit in with the crowd, she certainly wasn’t banned from any of them.

Don’t have anyone to tell me no anymore, anyway. Not Mom, not Yomi, not Finn.

Just as Ravyn picked a shadowy doorway to enter, there was a tap on her shoulder. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching and, as a result, nearly leaped out of her skin. Readying a [Fire Ball], she spun on her heel to face down her opponent.

“Woah, woah, there!” Bright green eyes shimmered in the glow of Ravyn’s hand. She threw up her hands near her shoulders, palms empty, showing that she wasn’t armed. “I come in peace.”

Ravyn scowled and sapped the magic away from her hand. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

The girl took a step back, and Ravyn suddenly realized how short she was. The tips of her ears barely brushed Ravyn’s shoulders. “No holes in your dress, clear eyes, combed hair, white teeth. You don’t seem the type craving a trip.”

“I’m not here for drugs.” Ravyn narrowed her eyes. “I just want a fucking drink.”

“Then come with me. Let’s get you a drink.” Her gaze wandered to the top of the dark building’s doorway. “You won’t find it in there.”

“I can’t go to any of the taverns on the main road.”

She grinned. “Sure you can. Come on.”

Ravyn took one last look at the door, grunted her assent, then followed the stranger back into the glittering heart of Shulan.

“You have a name?” Ravyn asked.

“Sumire. Sumi. Whatever you fancy is fine. You?”

“Ravyn,” she replied curtly.

Sumire’s hair caught Ravyn’s attention in the light—a burnt orange with black and white streaks throughout; a pattern mirrored in her pierced ears and slender tail. One side of her head was shaved, with the remaining hair flipped to the opposite shoulder. A black and red corset hugged her curves, the hips leading into a short tabard draping around tight thigh highs. Twin daggers hung in sheathes on either hip, and the buckles on her boots jingled with each step. Even if she was short, she carried herself with quite the attitude.

Just as she was about to lead them into the warmly lit tavern, Ravyn touched her shoulder. “Hey. They don’t want me here.”

“Roachshit.” Sumire grinned and winked. “Follow me. You’ll see.”

The tables were packed, and the swell of conversation swallowed them whole as they moved deeper inside. The catgirl proprietress that had thrown Ravyn out just three nights before eyed her over a glass she was polishing with a white cloth.

“What part of ‘Don’t step foot in my pub again’ didn’t resonate the first time?” the proprietress growled as they approached the bartop.

“Kayla, sweet. Ravyn here’s my guest tonight. Won’t you fetch her a drink?” Sumire swiped a leather pouch from her [Cat Pack] and tossed it on the counter. Golden Bells spilled forward, clinking together and glimmering enticingly in the overhead lights. “With a few Bells and your recent delivery, I think we can let her stay. Don’t you?”

Kayla scowled, her narrowed eyes flickering from the Bells to Sumire’s face. “If she causes a scene, you’re both out. Understood?”

Sumire shook her head, her smile widening. “We wouldn’t dream of it. Now, two Dragon’s Dreams, if you would.”

Kayla swept the Bells from the counter into her apron and moved down the bar without another word.

“The hell’s a Dragon’s Dream?” Ravyn asked.

“An Ichi Island specialty. Had to teach Kayla to mix one a long time ago.” Sumire gestured to the stool for Ravyn to sit first before she took the one beside her. “Needs a special liquor made from the desert fruit out there. Just so happens to be an exclusive offering for Kayla’s patrons.”

“You go to Ichi that often?” Ravyn raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah. May as well get my own place there at this point,” Sumire laughed. “Dry as a fucking bone, and the girls are uh…interesting. But it’s good for business.”

Ravyn had never been to Ichi. Even in her travels with Finn and limited time spent with Cailu, she’d only visited Nyarlothep, then returned to San Island. Returned home. “Well, good for you.”

Kayla returned with two tall glasses filled to the brim with a fiery red mixture, then topped with a pawberry.

“Looks like a fruity bitch drink,” Ravyn remarked.

The proprietress opened her mouth to speak, but Sumire raised a hand and offered a slight shake of her head. “Don’t let looks deceive you.”

“Go easy on them,” Kayla growled and vanished to help a new set of patrons at the end of the bar.

Ravyn shrugged and took a sip. The response was immediate. Warmth trickled through her veins and tickled her fingers, crawling to her toes and then back to her throat. “Fuck,” she murmured.

“You didn’t seem like a ‘fruity bitch drink’ kind of girl,” Sumire said, watching Ravyn take another long pull. “You do seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

Ravyn hesitated. “Yeah, well, gonna need more booze to talk about that.”

Sumire nodded, watching as she finished her glass. With a wave to a disgruntled Kayla, she ordered Ravyn another.

The Dragon’s Dream was probably the strongest thing Ravyn had enjoyed all week. And she was ready to throw back as many of the damn things Sumire was willing to put in front of her.

Visions of Finn flooded her memory with each glass she saw through to the bottom. His laugh, his touch, his voice. His first failed attempts at [Alchemy] and then his numerous successes. Finn protecting her against countless Defiled. Finn confessing his love and suggesting they run from it all.

The pleasant tingling along her skin was intoxicating, and, against her better judgment, the drink worked its magic on her tongue.

“I couldn’t protect him,” Ravyn whispered. “It’s my fault.”

Sumire observed quietly, patiently taking sips from her red-tinged glass.

Ravyn looked at her. “The man before Cailu was mine to protect. And I fucked it up.”

“Ah. One of Finn’s girls,” Sumire replied gently. “He was a quiet one. Kept to himself.”

Ravyn worked her jaw while the weight of Sumire’s words took hold. “You…You remember Finn?”

“Mhm. Didn’t get to talk to him, but I’d see him around.” She swirled her drink in thought. “I think he had good intentions, but, well— I think you’re taking too much credit.”

“What do you mean?” Ravyn rubbed at her eyes. Why the hell were they wet?

“This world is a shit show. You have to be able to fend for yourself, or you're fucked.” Sumire took another long draw from her glass. “We can’t protect everyone, and they can’t protect us. Even in a Party, it’s every catgirl for themselves.”

Ravyn wanted to tell her she was wrong. That it had been her fucking job to protect Finn. She’d promised him they could vanish from it all and start their own family. Just the two of them.

And in the end, neither of them was strong enough.

Sumire signaled for Kayla to bring another round. “Besides, aren’t the men supposed to protect us?”

“Finn was different,” Ravyn snarled.

Lifting her hands at her shoulders as she had earlier, Sumire shook her head. “Hey, no harm intended. You knew him way better than I did.”

The creeping thought that Finn just hadn’t been good enough for Nyarlea had plagued Ravyn more than once. She’d swallowed it and pushed it away every time, but hearing it out of someone else’s mouth had a way of adding a measure of truth to it. Even Yomi had said something of the like a few times.

No. Fuck that. He was everything this world needed.

Another long drink of her refreshed drink. Another long glare from Kayla as she went to tend to other people.

“Look. It’s been a rough fucking week for me, and clearly a rough fucking life for you.” Sumire tipped her glass toward Ravyn. “Let me take your mind off of it for a while?” Green eyes drank Ravyn in from head to toe. “Promise to make it worth your while.”

Sumire’s gaze and smooth skin had taken on a welcoming glow, and a shiver ran down her spine. How long had it been since she’d shared a bed? When was the last time she’d let anyone in?

Ravyn finished off her drink. “Sure. Why the fuck not.” The words slurred on her tongue but she didn’t care. It was the first time she hadn’t been thrown out of a bar in months. The first time she’d let anyone offer her companionship in years.

Fuck it.

Sumire left another pack of Bells on the bartop and gently hooked her arm around Ravyn’s waist. “So you don’t fall over on me.”

Ravyn wanted to protest, but when she stood, the walls began to shift. “Whatever,” she murmured, though it was nearly impossible to understand.

Sumire chuckled and guided her outside, then to a nearby inn. One of the nicer places in Shulan, with unchipped paint and new wallpaper. After a short conversation with the hostess at the front, Ravyn found herself led to a room on the first floor and standing before a four-post bed.

“Don’t like the…er, fuck…the upstairs?” For whatever reason, the term ‘second floor’ evaded her.

“Didn’t want you to fall down the stairs.” Sumire shrugged.

“Confi— consit…fuck.” Words were evading her completely.

Sumire laughed. “Considerate.” She locked the door, then moved around Ravyn until they were face to face. “Still alright?”

Ravyn frowned. This wasn’t supposed to be an exercise in hand-holding. She snaked her fingers into Sumire’s hair and around her neck. Throwing her remaining doubt to the wind, Ravyn kissed her.

Sumire gasped, reciprocating with her tongue parting Ravyn’s lips.

“I said let me help,” Sumire breathed against her mouth, then pushed Ravyn against the door.

[Memory stored and saved for Catgirls. . .]

At last, Sumire rolled away, staring at the canopy as she caught her breath. Ravyn did the same, licking her lips and chuckling to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Sumire asked.

Ravyn turned her head and reached out to trace the line of Sumire’s hip. “I was just wondering—” she hesitated just below Sumire’s navel, grinning at her gasp, “—if it’s too late to go get another one of those Dragon’s Dreams.”

Sumire barked a laugh and swatted away Ravyn’s hand. “Like I said. We got all night.”

For a few incredible moments, Ravyn felt normal. Like things were okay.

She clung to that feeling with every fiber of her being.