Back at the house, after Hattie had paid Fior his three gold, Melanie handed Hattie a to go package. With a smile, she whispered, “There’s cookies inside.”

Fior and Melanie then wished her safe travels. Taiki, his mother having pulled him out of his workshed, muttered a goodbye, eyes downcast. Hattie worried about the boy’s propensity for quietness and folding into himself. She promised herself she would try to visit again within the year, before the boy went to Rivershard.

“Farewell, my dear friend,” Grace said, eyes wet, “You must come visit again, and not in another fifty years.”

“I shall,” Hattie said, and her chin quivered, “It was a true joy, being able to see you, and meeting your family.”

Grace pulled Hattie into a warm hug, “Stay safe, and go on to do great things.”

“I shall,” Hattie said. Grace moved back, and Min came over to give Hattie a hug. He squeezed her with all the strength in his little body.

“Bye, Miss Hattie,” his voice was muffled through her dress, “when you come and visit again, I want you to tell me about your adventures.”

“Oh, my dear,” Hattie brushed a hand through the little boy’s hair, “I shall.”

It was time to head back to Derington, and see what the Adventurer's Guild had for her. Hattie squared her shoulders, and stepped out of the house, where the wolf waited for her. She patted a hand on his flank.

“I’m not sure what to name you,” Hattie met the wolf’s eyes, “You are male, so perhaps Roger? But that doesn’t seem to suit you, though I adore that name…”

“We’ll come up with something eventually, my friend. For now,” Hattie smiled, “We ought to go back to Derington.”

Hattie threw a skinny leg over the wolf’s back, and made sure her pack was secure, as it was rather large now, and they were off. The wolf moved much faster than the cart she’d taken to Redshire, even faster than a horse. It was the fastest she’d ever gone before. The wind blew her white hair away from her face, while the wolf’s fur tickled her chin. They bounded over the bridge, onto the main road, past stunned men and women on carts and wagons.

Hattie kept the wolf on the correct trajectory. Derington came into view, the tall spires of Duke Soliman’s holding, Hattie’s old home, visible. A wistfulness overcame Hattie and for a second, she pinched her eyes shut. She opened them, and a small chuckle escaped her.

“We’re home,” Hattie told the wolf.

They avoided the crowds of the market, and instead cut through a different district to get to Grocer’s Circle, and then down Apothecary Lane, to the stone building of the Adventurer’s Guild. Hattie dismounted and thanked the wolf. The two stepped into the guild, the wolf’s fur brushing her skirts with his proximity.

Several of the adventurer’s moved back from the duo in surprise, as they remembered the little old maid from her first visit to the guild. Was this old maid a war veteran? Did that explain her strange actions?

Hattie walked straight up to the job postings on the boards, and spoke up in a loud voice. She wasn’t going to waste time.

“I’m looking to join a team on a monster culling mission.”

At first, the adventurers couldn’t believe what Hattie had said. Here, in the Adventurer’s Guild, a woman as old as their grandmothers wanted to go on an adventure? Most of them made requests to help find their lost fake teeth!

An adventurer approached her, a short man with a squarish face, “Grandmother, are you feeling okay?”

Hattie harumped, irritated, with the continual treatment she kept receiving everywhere, that she was an incompetant, crazy, woman that was too old, “Young man,” she tugged at her collar, her pin caught the light and glinted, “I’ve got my pin. I’m as much of an adventurer as you, and I will be treated as such.”

The adventurer wasn’t deterred, “Grandmother, please, this is foolishness. You should go home.”

Hattie glared, and resisted the urge to tug on this upstart's ears, and the wolf, next to her, bristled, “As I said,” she repeated this in an even louder voice, “Would anybody let me join them on a monster culling mission?”

Another adventurer approached her, a young lady with short hair and a thick plate of armor. She glanced at the square faced man, and her expression darkened for a moment. She cleared her throat as she turned her back to him, and faced Hattie.

“Grandmother,” she said in a pleasant voice, “Let’s talk, and perhaps you can join my team on a mission.”

“Thank you, dear,” Hattie said, glad some of these adventurer kids still had respect for the elderly.

The square shaped man sputtered, “You can’t be serious, Ally, this is ridiculous!”

The young lady, Ally, turned to the man, “You better start using your eyes, Richard. Did you not notice this nice lady has a gold wolf by her side? The mounts the army uses?”

Richard eyes moved until they pinpointed the wolf, and he made an annoyed face, “It doesn’t change the fact that,” and he sneered, “This lady is an old--”

“Young man, I’ve had enough of your nonsense,” and with that Hattie leaned forward in a practised motion and cuffed his ear, hard.

“Ack!” Richard. Hattie walked by him, and looped her arm with Ally’s.

“I’d love to hear your offer,” Hattie told Ally, as they walked out of the Guild.

“Great,” Ally said, and resisted the urge to glance back at the scene they had caused, “there’s a new bakery here that has a seating area, and serves beverages with its pastries. My treat,” she added.

“Wonderful,” Hattie said. It was past noon after all, and Hattie hadn’t eaten since the morning.

Ally and Hattie walked a little while away from the Guild, and came to a brick building with a cheerful sign painted with miniature desserts and steaming drinks that proclaimed, “Delina’s Delectables.”

“There's outside seating, and they should let your wolf sit with you there, since it’s so well mannered,” Ally said before they walked into the shop. Hattie got the impression the wolf was pleased by this remark.

The scents of chocolate and butter and cinnamon greeted them. Inside, it was warm, and Hattie knew that fresh baking must’ve been put up in the back of the shop, from the yeasty smell. There were a few small tables, and a side door that led to a brick enclosed yard with more seats. But the main attraction was the pastries, of course.

Swirls of nutmeg and butter running through babycakes, white glaze drizzled over mouth watering puffs of dough. Loaves of bread with a sheen, and others with crackly crusts and soft interiors. Slices of cakes adorned with berries, with thick cream filling between the layers.

“Get whatever you’d like,” Ally then ordered for herself. She pointed to a large flat cookie that was speckled with dried fruits and asked for one, along with a cup of frothy hot milk.

Hattie’s eyes narrowed as she considered her options. Her eyes roved over each of the pastries available. Each was appetizing.

She looked up at the shopkeeper, a bit overwhelmed, and asked “What do you recommend?”

“My favorite is the butterscotch muffin,” she said, smiling, “But a lot of our customers like the triple chocolate mocha cake.”

“I’ll take both,” Hattie said, “And a glass of chilled milk, please.”

Ally paid, and Hattie’s eyes went round when she heard the price, though she supposed that with the cost of the more exotic cocoa and spices it made sense. The shopkeeper plated each of the desserts and placed them on a wooden tray, along with the drinks. Ally picked up the tray and they headed to the outdoor seating area, Hattie behind her.

They chose a table that basked in the sun, the wooden slates warm, and sat across from each other.

“So, young lady,” Hattie said, “You’ve got a monster culling mission lined up?”

“My brother and I do,” Ally said, “There’s four of us, and we mostly hunt monsters.”

“Hmm…” Hattie decided it was time to be clear about her capabilities. She wasn’t actually a war veteran, after all.

“So, you see,” she began, “what I can do for your team is this…”