"The mole and her child, are they well?" River asked.

"They seem well. I don't know the difference between newborn moles and mice but it can't be too different."

The males all decided to quietly sip their tea as they waited for the supply train to reach them. A fully stocked supply train would have days of sustenance and medical supplies. They might not have everything, but that is why you run a few in tandem.

"The poor dears were up a lot of the night and the husband?" River said conspiratorially, "He needs to learn how to either be a less bad husband or a better one and I'm not sure which."

Freya gasped and held back a giggle.

"Shall we both become blue jays? This way Lieutenant Chin-Hwa won't know that I'm there and I'll get some time…"

"Freya, a druid doesn't just mess around with magic…but it would be an excellent disguise."

"If you'll pardon me, but a thought occurs to me that I might never be able to get out of my head if I don't ask it now," Crenshaw said, "but when you change form, can you change genders?"

River had a blank look on her face.

"You know what, I have never tried that. I can't imagine that would be impossible though."

She smiled at Freya, the knowing smile of someone who had told a half-truth.

"Ah, I see."

The three mice sipped their tea quietly. Stone walked back to the table and grabbed some more rolls, eating a few while he was there for good measure.

The breakfast table was full of hearty foodstuffs and breaded everything. It was quite possible that a baker lived nearby.

More likely, the baker lived inside of the Inn, or above it in some of the worker's apartments.

"That bread, it's all expertly made. It will be good for you to eat a bit more," River said, "Especially if you want to sustain a wild shape."

"Already on it," Freya said in between mouthfuls of bread.

"Well don’t hold back on my account."

River smiled and Freya smiled right back at her. Ears crinkled in sync.

Crenshaw looked through the bay window.

"I would say about fifteen minutes until we need to prepare the chickens at the rate they're going. They usually stop for about a half hour here as they're passing through, according to the proprietor," Crenshaw said, "that should be long enough to arrange a link up. I'll speak to them, and if anyone else…?"

Freya knew her place was with the chickens after yesterday's debacle so she wisely and intentionally didn't volunteer.

"I'll help," Stone said, as he returned to his slightly larger-sized wooden chair," these three are the chicken specialists after all. And please give my regards to poor Ruby. I have eaten a light breakfast on her account."

His whiskers pointed up as he drank from his full mug.

"It's settled then. We'll wrap up our affairs here. I'll see to the mother and the newborn once more before we depart, and then we'll head to the stables," River nodded to Freya," the follow-up is also important, and your grandfather can handle the chickens. I was assured that they were fed by Layla's husband. He knows that he can't fool a druid."

Freya weakly missed grabbing her tea as she savored the last moment of calm before they would inevitably be moving again. She got it on her second try and drew in a long breath.

Stone knew how to brew a cup of tea to perfection. She wanted to thank the otter, but also didn't want to inflate his pontoon-sized ego.