Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 42: Grace: Lyre’s Strange Behavior

When Lyre slides into the chair across from me, I lose track of the strange cat. It disappears as if it was never there at all.

"White?" Lyre asks between bites, completely unconcerned as I tell her about a bizarre cat only I can see.

"Yeah."

"Don’t worry, it’s harmless."

Andrew’s out there now; I watch through the window as he sniffs the air, turning to shrug his shoulders at me through the glass. He must not smell anything.

Having a stalker is annoying, but hey, if he wants to brave the strange and mysterious for me, I’m not going to complain. If I have to suffer through his constant unwanted presence, I may as well get something out of it.

I nibble at a French fry, enjoying its salty potato goodness as I watch her eat. "What do you mean by ’harmless’?"

Lyre shrugs, her slitted eyes narrowing slightly as she takes another monstrous bite of her burger. Ketchup dots the corner of her mouth. "Exactly what the word means."

She’s already halfway through her meal, and she’s only been sitting here for a minute. My stomach growls in response, my appetite suddenly returning now that Lyre’s here.

The burger’s greasy and generic, but for some reason its flavor rivals the food the pack offers. Freedom is the best seasoning.

"Our plans are going to be messed up, though," she muses between chews, staring out the window. Andrew paces a few more times, nostrils flaring, before he heads back to the entrance, presumably to come back here.

"What do you mean?" Mustard gloops out the side of my burger, and I wipe at it with a napkin. It isn’t that I dislike mustard, but too much of it is just... well, too much.

"It means what I said." Her tone borders on patronizing, as if I’m asking a stupid question.

I blink, waiting for elaboration that doesn’t come.

"Well, that’s why it’s always best to expect the unexpected." Lyre’s voice comes out languid, lazy almost. She stretches in her chair, leaning back as she finishes the last quarter of her food. "We won’t go far tonight. I’d rather have a comfortable place to stay."

am I to argue or complain? Lyre’s a free spirit, willingly bringing me along at her own expense. If she’s being a little weird, well, she was weird from the moment we met, so it isn’t really

weird. At least on my end. Lyre seems perfectly content to exist in her own bubble of certainty while I flounder in confusion beside

her burger long before I’m even halfway through mine. While I continue to eat, she plucks fries from the container between us,

nearby campground," she explains without looking up. Her brightly colored nails click against the screen as she huffs. "Damn it. If I’d known we were going to camp properly tonight, I wouldn’t have bothered dumping the tanks

nature, a reflexive response. Somehow, I feel responsible for this inconvenience, even though camping tonight is

up. "Why are you

in midair as I blink at her. "I don’t know. It just... felt

and clicks her tongue. "Stop apologizing when there’s nothing to

isn’t like I’d ever considered myself strong, but being

her unusual eyes calculating. Then comes another sigh, deeper than the last, as if the weight of the entire world rests squarely on her shoulders. She shakes her head again. "You need to remember how to appear strong, even when you feel

I say

don’t have to be strong. Just look

twitches. "You want me

on purpose. Be strong of mind, Grace. Don’t lower your head for just anyone. You’re

spouting now belong on

table with a clatter. She scratches at her head with both hands, completely mussing

says, sounding utterly

head up, glowering at me with her unsettling slitted eyes. "If you appear weak, then

hands. "Did you major in saying things without any context whatsoever?

grimaces. "Just hurry up and

into the chair beside me, a scowl etched

slowly as I study the strange woman across from me. Her hair looks like a rainbow exploded on her head, especially now that she’s messed it up, and looks kind of like a young, rainbow-colored Einstein, but

ask, trying

Andrew for a split second before returning to me. "Yes. There’s a

straightening in his chair.

We ignore him.