The cat looked up at Lexie and made a soft mrrrrrp.

He was large, all black except for one white spot on his left eye that made it look like he wore an eyepatch, and had a thick shaggy floof of a coat that made it impossible to tell if he was well fed or skin and bones beneath.

The long hair of his belly was matted with mud in places, and a few twigs and leaves were tangled in his floof. There was a burr knotted in the hair of his tail. It made Lexie think that he was probably hungry as well.

As if reading her mind, he fixed her with a solid stare, blinked his bright yellow eyes once, slowly, and turned his gaze to the half eaten package of cookies in her hand.

"You want one of these?" said Lexie. She took a cookie out of the bag. Giant rat. It seemed fitting for a cat.

"These are cookies, I don't think cats like cookies," she said. She proffered the cookie anyway, and the cat took it daintily in his teeth. As soon as she let go, he dropped it to the ground and began crunching it to pieces, practically inhaling the cookie, and finishing al the crumbs. Then he looked at the bag again.

"I guess you're hungry. And you're looking a bit rough. I guess you could probably use a better meal than dungeon snacks, huh." She folded over the cookie bag and stuck the half eaten package back in her pack. "And you could use a clean up."

Lexie looked down at her slime coated pants. The slime had soaked into the material and dried, leaving the material stiff and uncomfortable. "We both could."

The cat continued sitting on the ground watching her, I she rose and went into the cabin. He showed no sign of following her. She left the door open.

Inside, she dropped her pack to the side of the door and pulled off her dungeon clothes. She'd wash up properly later, but in the meantime she just pulled on what she thought of as her cabin clothes, a pari of soft flannel pajama pants and the warm cable knit fisherman's sweater that must've belonged to Martha. She dropped the dungeon clothes on the porch outside, and saw the cat was still sitting in the same spot, watching the door.

Back inside, she lit the fire and set the cast iron pan to heat on the grate in the fireplace. She wished she had a wood fired cooking stove like Nellie. She hadn't even looked at the prices in Sprübeck's catalog but she was sure they'd be out of her budget for now. Maybe after the crops came in.

While the pan heated, she opened up the food safe she'd inherited with the cabin. It was metal chest, lined with wod, and then another thin layer of metal on the inside. It was divided into two compartments. One side, for cold goods, had a place for an ice pack. There were two in that side of the chest, presumably one for freezing while the other was in use. The chest was well enough insulated that an ice pack would keep milk and other perishables cold enough for a couple days, but Lexie had no way to freeze an ice pack. She supposed she could buy one from Sprübeck's but she already had two and that didn't solve the problem of freezing them. Lexie wondered what Martha had done.

She wished she had an enchanted icebox like Nellie, but that was out of her meager budget right now.

At least eggs didn't need refrigeration. She took out the carton she'd bought, and whisked up four in a bowl with a bit of water and salt. She poured a dash of oil into the cast iron pan and used the spatula to spread it around. Then flicked a few drops of water in the pan. It sizzled, and she poured in the eggs.

She stirred the eggs, with the spatula, and when they were cooked, she took the heavy insulated gloves by the fireplace and quickly moved the pan to the flat piece of stone set on the table to protect it from the heat of the pan.

Cooking even the simplest things in the cabin felt like so much work to Lexie. Lexie thought of the kitchen back in her flat -- correction, back in ben's flat in HOME*CITY. The expanse of granite countertop, the immactualte stainless steel appliances, the gleaming black glass of the stovetop.

She'd never -- well, not never, but rarely -- used that kitchen. Made coffee in the morning. Not with the fancy espresso machine -- too much work for first thing in the morning. She kept a box of single serving packets of instant in the cupboard. The mason jar of coffee beans by the grinder was for show. It made them look like the kind of people who made fancy coffee every morning. Probably with their own milk foam art. Most of their meals they ate out. Or takeaway. Carefully photographed and curated for ben's lifestream. He kept a list. He couldn't repeat too frequently in the stream.

Now, she thought wistfully of that kitchen as she scraped eggs from the cast iron pan onto her plate and sloshed some water in the pan. She'd take it outside and clean it properly after she ate. Having a kitchen sink was among the things Lexie missed.

She set a couple slices of bread on the grate to toast and then spooned some of the egg onto a saucer for the cat. When the toast was done, she buttered it, and took both plates back out to the porch.

It was late twilight now, with the brightest stars just becming visible. There was still a faint band of lighter blue on the horizon.

The cat had moved onto the porch. He sat now opposite the door.

Lexie walked to the side not coming too close. She didn't want to spook him. He observed her with his yellow eyes. As night fell, he was like a darker shadow agains the night, except for hs eyepatch and his yellow eyes reflecting the light from the door. She set the saucer of egg down and them moved a bit further, just out of arm's reach, and sat with her legs criss cross, plate balanced in her lap, facing the sea.

She was hungry, and ate rapidly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cat approach the saucer of eggs she'd set down and after a careful sniff, begin chowing sown large hungry bites.

"Glad I'm not the only one eating like a pig," Lexie remarked to the cat. "You're making me feel better about my table manners."

The cat's ears flicked toward her as she spoke, but otherwise he continued eating, and gave no other sign of interest or acknowledgment.

Lexie finished her own meal and set the plate down. She needed to wash up the pan and dishes, rinse herself off and get ready for bed.

It was so strange to be so tired and ready for bed at... she fished for her mobile, then realized the device was in her pack still. Well, it couldn't be later than seven. And she was ready for bed. Farmer's hours she thought, with a wry smirk. If you didn't have to be constantly monitoring your interacts and pumping engagement, you could afford to be in bed by seven thirty.

A raspy noise caught her attention and she glanced toward the cat. He'd finished his own plate and moved on to hers. He was licking every last crumb of scrambled eggs from Lexie's plate and purring like a rusty engine trying to start after a long period of neglect.

She smiled and reached out a hand toward the cat slowly. He looked up from the plate as she moved, tensed, and she saw him calculating the situation.

Then he leaned toward her outstretched hand and butted it with his head. She stroked the soft fur on the top of his head gently for a few minutes, and the cat continued to purr. Then he removed himself to the corner of the porcha nd began picking bits of leaf and twig from his coat with his teeth.

Lexie sighed and stood up. "I guess I should clean up too."

She could've just gone to bed then, tired as she was after the long day. But she'd sleep better if she washed off the dirt of the dungeon. And she'd be happier in the morning if she didn't wake up to a stack of unwashed dishes.

"Do these now," she muttered. "Future me will thank me."

She collected the plates, utensils and pan, and the tub she used for washing dishes. She added a bit of soap and mixed hot water from the kettle, hung over the fire to heat while she was eating, with cold water from the bucket by the door until she could stand to immerse her hands, then scrubbed the dishes and pan with a coarse brush.

She dried the dishes and then rubbed the pan all over with a bit of oil to protect it from rust before she put it away. That done, she collected her towel and added the rest of the hot water to the bucket by the door which she picked up and toted to the side of the cabin away from the trail. Not that she thought anyone would be coming along at this hour. But it made her feel better to think she had a little bit of privacy while she bathed, just in case. She'd have to do something about rigging up an outdoor cubicle of some kind, maybe she could get some sailcloth down at the docks. She wasn't getting a bathroom anytime soon, but fortunately the summer was just beginning. She needed to find out about that planning permission and how much she needed to save up for the bathroom addition.

She washed and toweled herself dry, then put her cabin clothes back on and collected her supplies. It was chilly now that the sun had gone down, and she was glad for the cozy fire in the cabin. She returned to the cabin to find the cat laying on the rug in front of the fireplace, curled in a ball.

When she came in, he opened one golden eye, and seeing it was only Lexie, closed it again.

"Goodnight to you too," she said. Lexie thought about leaving the door open in case the cat had to go to the bathroom during the night, or wanted to leave. But then she thought of what might wander in.

The night was clear and, though the air was crisp, the sky was cloudless and sprinkled with stars. She decided to leave the window by the table open enough for a cat to pass through. There was a woodpile outside, just a short hop from the windowsill, and she pushed a chair against the wall to make it easy to reach. Then she climbed into bed and fell into the deep sleep of someone who'd been working in the outdoors all day.

In the morning, the cat was still there. It had moved from the rug in front of the fire to the foot of the bed sometime during the night, and was now curled against Lexie's legs.

She sat up and rubbed behind its ears. It gave her a yawn, and rolled over.

"I guess you probably deserve to sleep in," she said. "But I have chores to do."

She opened the food safe and spread a couple slices of bread with peanut butter.

The cat, forced to decide between the lure of the smell of food and the warm bed, decided on the food, and moments later was winding about Lexie's ankles and purring loudly.

"I don't think cats like peanut butter," said Lexie. "Let me see what else I have."

She opened the box again. Not bread. She had a few apples still, oh and some hard cheese. She took out the cheese and cut a thick slice for the cat, which she then cut into tiny cubes. She put it on a saucer and put that on the floor. The cat dropped to a crouch and ate as Lexie ate her bread and made coffee.

It was chilly in the cabin, with the window open all night. Lexie wondered if it would be that way all summer. She might need to move her fire outdoors if the summer was hot.

She put on her farming clothes and took her cup of coffee out to the porch and looked over the field she'd planted.

A smile broke across her face. There was the faintest hint of green, as though a thin greenish mist clung to the gorund. Walking closer, she could see the tiny individual sprouts breaking through the dirt. Her crops were coming up!

Lexie felt a surge of pride, and realized that until that moment, she hadn't been sure that this would work. She hadn't been sure anything would grow.

She finished her coffee, rinsed the mug, and fetched her watering can.

It took her the better part of the morning to water the field. Here and there she noticed a stem of grass, or some other vegetative opportunist poking up, standing tall above the tiny mist of sprouts, and she stopped to pluck weeds. That would be a nightmare if she let it go.

The cat, meanwhile, had lazed about the field while Lexie was working. It hadn't disturbed the dirt, but lay on the side of the field nearest whichever part of the field Lexie was working in. Totally oblivious to her presence, but someohow always at hand.

When she returned to the cabin to change clothes and drop off her gardening tools, the cat was lying on the porch, sound asleep in a sunbeam on the warm wood, as though it had been there the entire time.

As she changed out of her farm clothes, her stomach growled. "I can get lunch in town. Looks like I need to pick up some cat food, too."

She didn't know what she was going to do about laundry. Maybe she could ask in town, there must be a laundry somewhere. Martha had to clean her clothes somehow and between the farming and the dungeon, this was becoming a pressing need for Lexie.

She slung her pack on. It was a bit dusty after the dungeon, and beginning to look, well, worn in. She supposed that was to be expected.

She gave the cat a stroke on its warm fur and said, "I'll bring back some cat food."

The walk into town was pleasant and Lexie's first stop was the diner, where she treated herself to a milkshake and a black bean burger with a huge side of fries. The lunch crowd, if you could call anything in Albatross Bay a crowd, was finishing up as Lexie arrived, and gone by the time her food was ready. Iris cleared the tables and then set the dish tub on the counter and sat down opposite Lexie.

"Phew, my feet are killing me, you don't mind if I set a moment do you?"

"No, of course not," said Lexie.

"How's it going out at that place of yours?" asked Iris.

"Great! My crops are starting to sprout, as of this morning!" Lexie's voice was tinged with pride. She knew it was a small accomplishment, but she couldn't help it.

Iris's smile was genuine. "Well that's something!" she said. "How long until harvest?"

"A week, I think," said Lexie. "I don't really know what I'll do with it though, Mrs. Sprübeck said she'd buy some of my produce."

"So will we!" said Iris. "Gus would love to get his hands on garden fresh vegetables. Would you take requests for your next crop?"

"I... could?" said Lexie, who hadn't considered it before just this moment. "But I'm really low level, still level one. So I can't grow anything fancy."

"Oh that's no mind," said Iris. "Even your plain old lettuce and tomato and carrots and squash would keep Gus happy. It's hard to get good fresh produce on the island. We can get our milk and cheese and butter from the dairy, and flour and the like is fine coming from the mainland. The dry staples. But the fruit and veg, it's either under ripe and tasteless, over ripe or rotten, and when it is ripe, it's badly bruised and mangled."

"I'll see what I can do," promised Lexie.

"Great!" said Iris. She brought Lexie a piece of blueberry pie on the house.

After lunch, Lexie headed to Sprübeck's. Mrs. Sprübeck greeted her cheerfully as the bell tinkled, announcing Lexie's entrance.

"Hello, dear? Looking for anything special?"

"Cat food, actually," said Lexie.

"Got a pet, do you? Good. Good to have some company out at that cabin. Let's see, cat food.... Mrs. Sprübeck made a show of looking, though Lexie noticed she made a beeline for the correct spot on the shelves.

"Here you go," she pointed at a few bags of dry food. "Though if you want to give your new fried a bit of a treat, you should stop by the docks when the day's catch comes in. They'll be down there cleaning fish, and happy to give you a bucket full of the parts they don't use. Cat'll love it."

"Thanks!" said Lexie. "Though I probably need more like a cupful than a bucketfull. No fridge out at the cabin."

Mrs. Spürbeck frowned. "Well that explains why you never buy milk or anything that needs to be cool. Hmm." She bustled over to the catalog on the stand and flipped through.

"Here." She planted one tiny, wrinkled finger on a page that listed a number of preservation boxes. The prices made Lexie swallow. There was no way she could afford those, Not for years. Mrs. Sprübeck's finger traveled down the page, and flipped to the next. The options were growing less luxurious, and the prices reflected it. Thery were still well out of range for Lexie though. Maybe after her first harvest. Then she'd have an idea how long it might be before she could buy something like that.

"This might work for you." Mrs. Sprübeck had landed on a model similar to Nelly's, a half height box that was meant to fit under a countertop. It ran on small mana crystals and would hold plenty for just one person. And a cat. "It's not big, but you're by yourself, you don't need to feed a family out of it," she said.

The price was two thousand coins, though. Maybe. Maybe Lexie could put that away by autumn. But she still had the bathroom to think about. She needed to get a price on that. She bet it would be more than the preservation box too.

Regretfully, she told Mrs. Sprübeck, "It looks perfect but I can't afford that right now," said Lexie. "Maybe after growing season I'll have some money put away. I have to make sure the cabin is winter ready and get a bathroom in too."

"You just let me know when, dear," said Mrs. Sprübeck.

"Oh, I will," said Lexie.

She thanked Mrs. Sprübeck for the cat food, and added a new loaf of bread, some sliced cheese, a tomato, and a small lettuce, along with another half dozen eggs, and a small bottle of milk. If she drank it tonight, she didn't have to worry about it going bad.

Cheese sandwiches with her cat.

That was what Lexie's life had come to. She thought about it as she followed the cobblestone road down to the waterfront.

She didn't think much about her old life. She missed the conveniences, the kitchen she rarely used, the indoor plumbing which she did, and always took for granted. The convenience of dozen modern appliances.

She missed the soundproofed room that had been her audio booth. More of a closet really. That's what it was. A walk in closet retrofitte with soundproofing and audio equipment. It was her space in ben's world. The dark grey speckled foam sucked the light as well as dampening sound, so the booth wasn't photogenic, and ben never ventured there. Not after a couple of highly posed "casual" shots that he'd spent an hour adjusting angles and lighting to get. Lexie sitting there with her headphones on, mic in front of her, hair and makeup carefully done to look like she hadn't done them at all.

After putting it on Insta, a carefully curated look into their home life, it never came up again. That was fine with Lexie. She loved the warm, silent cocoon of her booth.

She missed her audio booth. The cabin was quiet, but it wasn't the same. The audio booth had been her own little kingdom, where she had complete control over sound.