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Riley was soaked through, running as fast as he could along the forest road, and hoping that the water-proofing oils on his leather bag would do all they could to keep those mushrooms from getting water-logged.
The Caninian boy--a wolf, barely eighteen, lanky, but muscular enough--knew that if he took much more of this rain with the chilly autumn cold to boot, it wouldn't take long for pneumonia to set in. Riley also knew he was lost. Sure, he'd been following the forest road, but in the confusion of the rain and thunder and mud he was sure he'd taken a wrong turn along some less-used path that led here and there and everywhere; the Northen Sphere was filled with such forest with innumerable paths. He wasn't even sure where he was heading, but he knew that to stop and lose body heat was to wait for a cold death.
So through the gloom and rain and wind Riley ran, teeth chattering, nose sniffling. His grey fur dripped. All he thought about was keeping an eye on this path and looking for anywhere dry to wait, maybe even make a fire. He made sure not to think too hard about pneumonia or the darkness between the trees. And in the middle of all that thinking he almost missed the lights peering through the forest.
The youth stopped. A home? In these woods? Riley couldn't believe it. But he did run toward it. He was too cold and wet and afraid for questions, and he hoped for a cozy cottage to appear in a clearing...
...and instead beheld a tower.
A brick tower, trailing high above the trees and vanishing into the moonless night and rain. Even with a flash of thunder Riley couldn't see the top. But he wanted to be anywhere but out in the rain; so he ran up to the strong-looking wooden door, and banged on it.
"Hello?" he cried. "Please, is anyone--"
The door opened, and Riley ran inside. For a second Riley stood in darkness. Then the Lightstone's came on, right as the door closed behind him.
Lightstone fixtures along the walls revealed a large, circular room, a kind of foyer and living room all in one. There was a fireplace lit at one side, with comfortable looking chairs nearby. Portraits of landscapes hung on the wall, alongside seascapes, alongside views of villages. The room was warm both with the heat from the fireplace and the warmth of domesticity around him. Still, he shivered in his wet clothes. He really had to get out of them.
"Hello?" said Riley. "Is there anyone there?"
From somewhere came the sound of snapping fingers.
He looked around, and saw no one.
"...hello?" he said again. "Hey, I-ah!"
He was lifted into the air, levitated. Before he could speak again, he was rushed up the stairs at the other end of the room. He almost got whiplash, he was being moved around so fast; hallways and doors and carpets and portraits and Lightstones zoomed by his eyes. This way and that he went, floating all the while.
"Hey!" he cried out, gritting in frustration. "What's going on!?"
He blinked...and then he stopped moving.
Now he found himself in very luxurious bathroom. Marbled walls were everywhere, and a wide mirror covered one wall, below which was the sink and a wide assortment of bottles filled with--he supposed--soaps and shampoos and oils. He looked below, and saw he was floating over a large brass tub, filled with steaming hot water.
Then came another finger snap.
The sensation of paws--invisible paws--began to pull and tug at his clothing. Somehow, they worked daintily and efficiently, and even as he blushed and sputtered, his wet clothes were removed until he floated entirely in the fur, covering himself. He swore he heard a feminine chuckle somewhere, and he was pulled down, submerged into the tub.
Riley surfaced and took a deep breath, the shock of hot--blessedly hot-- water hitting him. Despite everything that had happened, he sighed, smiling as he felt waves of stress roll off his body. All the cold in his body and fur from the rain was obliterated. He sniffed. The water, he realized, was scented. Jasmine.
"...hello?" he said.
There was only the sound of the drops of water running down his fur.
Then, gently, something touched his arm, and raised it out of the water.
A sponge, lathered in soap, began to scrub Riley's fur. Then another sponge appeared to wash his other arm. Riley yelped as he felt two paws touch his headfur...and he sighed, as said two hands began to massage his headfur with shampoo. A comfortable sort of sensation overload settled in as his entire body was thoroughly cleaned. He worried for his privacy has his legs were raised out of the water, and he swore he heard a chuckle in the air as he blushed and covered himself.
Before long he was thoroughly cleaned, and after a rinse, he lounged in the still steaming hot water, both arms over the side of the tub and crossed, not so much thinking as just enjoying the comfort. Not too long ago he was soaked through and shivering, and now...
Then, all of a sudden, he was levitated out of the bath, and two very fluffy towels began to dry him off. There was plenty of sputtering on his part--and more chuckles from somewhere as he sounded off his indignation--but he was soon dry; he was then wrapped in a soft bathrobe, the belt tied just tight enough. And once more he was whisked away, past rooms and halls and more rooms and halls, until he was brought inside a gorgeous sitting room. He was deposited into a cozy chair by a fireplace, patted on the head, and left alone.
Then, nothing. Nothing but the sounds of the storm outside, and the crackling fireplace.
Riley's curiosity was still blazing as much as the fire, but he leaned back into his chair, and sniffed the air. He always loved the smell of a cozy fire at night, with its crackling in the background. His brow furrowed when he thought how worried his mom and dad must be, but this worry was tempered; he was safe and out of the rain. At least now, his parent's worries weren't being realized.
Then, a ladylike chuckled reverberated through the room.
Riley's fur stood on end. Getting to his footpaws, he turned his head...and buried his face in something soft, gently bouncing, and purring.
"Oh, my," said a very womanly voice. "You're cuter up close, you know."
It took effort to pull his head back--he was actually stuck a little--but when he did, he was face to chest with a very ample bosom. Craning his head up, Riley blushed like mad as he saw the face of a Felinian, a Mountan Lioness specifically.
Her fur was cream colored, with the light brown stripe down her face to the bridge of her nose her breed often had. Her eyes were green; their slits eyed him with a mix of curiosity and gentle amusement. Her headfur was long and brown, going to her shoulders, and a pink flower was pinned below her left ear. Pink ended up being the color of choice for her, actually. She wore a pink robe, trimmed with a darker pink, which went to just below her knees and exposed a good part of her large bosom. Just at her neck, too, was a tuft of very soft looking fur.
"Why, hello," said the woman, winking at him. "I hope you've been enjoying my hospitality, dear."
After opening his mouth, and closing it, Riley discovered that words weren't working at the moment. The lioness chuckled, and with a paw--her nails were panted pink, too--she gently pushed him back into his chair. She sat down in her own chair across from him, crossed her legs, and looked at him with interest, and more of that curiosity and amusement.
"Quite a night to be wondering the woods alone, you know," she said. The firelight shown in her eyes. "With a rainstorm like that. Tsk, tsk," and she waggled a finger, giving an admonishing look one could give to a pup. "You could've caught a cold."
A crack of thunder sounded off in the distance.
"Yeah," said Riley, finally finding his words again. "I think I should've waited a day or so before traveling home. There probably were rooms in the inn available, but the sky looked so...clear. Then the clouds moved in, and..."
"Weather is a fickle thing, puppy," she said. "Storms come often this time of year." The amused light in her eye shifted to warmth, and her smile became kind. "It was good that you found my tower. Very good."
Riley blushed, and that amused and gentle expression returned as she giggled into her paw. But then Riley sneezed, and she frowned with concern. She snapped her fingers, and a mug of steaming hot chocolate appeared in Riley''s paws, and in hers. The aroma was warming and spiced, and if it hadn't just popped out of nowhere, he would've taken a sip immediately.
"Go ahead, dear," she said, and the cup levitated and bumped his lips. "Drink up."
Riley held the mug in his paws and took a sip. It was heavenly.
"There we are," said the Mountain Lioness. "Much better, hm?"
"Yes," said Riley. "That's probably the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted."
"I'm glad you think so," said the woman. "That and the robe will warm you right up."
All of a sudden, the robe's tie tightened just a little, and the whole garment seemed to snuggle closer.
"She likes you," said the woman, winking at him while she took a sip of her own chocolate. "And where are my manners? It can be so easy to get lost in conversation. My name is Cherie. Madame Cherie, if you prefer, but Cherie is just fine."
"Are you a magician?" Riley blurted out.
Cherie's green eyes gleamed. "What makes you think that?"
"...everything?" said Riley.
She chuckled again into her paw. "I suppose I've given you plenty of reason to think so," she said. "But yes, dearie, I can use magics. A sorceress is the better term; magicians are more in the realm of showmanship." Her eyes softened. "And stop fidgeting. You've been a perfect guest. No need to get any nerves."
She guessed his nerves perfectly. Excited as Riley was to finally meet a practitioner in the arcane arts, he'd always heard stories of how formidable they could be.
"Sorry for asking that question bluntly," said Riley. "I've always wanted to meet someone who could use magics, and I never thought I would get the chance. I live out in the sticks, frankly. Seems all the magic folks live near the cities."
"Not all of them," said Cherie, tapping her chin. "Though, it has been a while since I've made a visit to any other sorcerers. I've lived out here alone for a while."
"Does it move?" asked RIley.
"Does what move?" said Cherie, raising a brow.
"The tower, I mean," said Riley. His tail wagged. "This is a sorcerer’s tower right? And I noticed that it seems so much bigger on the inside, and-"
Cherie put a claw to her lips. "I have to keep some secrets, dear," she said. "Though it is a rather whimsical tower, no? And again, my manners escape me! What is your name, dear? And tell me about yourself."
"My name is Riley," he said.
He mentioned his town's name. A small, walled up place of no renown, one of many towns in the Northern Sphere that lived an almost isolated pastoral existence, even years after The Sundering.
"I've never been there," said Cherie. She frowned. "Goodness, has it really been that long since I've taken a trip around this land? It's time to fix that."
"I want to travel around more too," said Riley. "My job makes it hard to do that unfortunately."
"And that job is?" said Cherie.
"I cook," said Riley. He frowned; he always got a little surely when he talked about his work. "I work for my folks, so at least it's helping them, but still, it's boring. They run a little tavern by a river, and they send me out for fresh ingredients. At least I get to travel around a little, even if it's just to neighboring towns and forests. Compared to magic, though, it's not much."
"Cooking can be exciting, surely?" said Cherie.
"Not really," said Riley. "Sure, I'm good at it, but I don't enjoy it terribly."
Cherie smiled. "And so you regard magic as a way to escape that?"
"It would be more exciting than cooking," said Riley. "I always wanted to meet a wizard or sorceress or whatever kind of magician is out there. My grandfather, he traveled a lot, and he told me stories of the magic he saw and..."
Riley yawned. Cherie giggled into her paw.
"Someone's tired~" she said. "I suppose it's time for bed."
"I am pretty tired," said Riley. "But I want to keep talking." Then he yawned again.
"No, I think it's time you turned in," said Cherie. "Let's get you to your room."
"I'm sorry to be a burden," said Riley. "You don't have to put me up with anything fancy, I-"
Cherie stood up and took his mug. Leaning over him, she smiled, and tapped him on the nose.
"Bed," she said, with that amused look of her's.
Riley blinked-
-and fell, landing on top of something extremely soft. A mattress, easily the most comfortable he ever felt.
The lights were off in the room. When Riley tried to sit up, a presence gently pushed him back into the bed. A plush comforter was tucked in around him, tight enough that he couldn't wiggle out.
Riley was not sure how he felt about an enforced bedtime. That is, until the exhaustion of a journey and unexpected encounters in the rain caught up to him. He was safe, and warm. All around him was the sound of rain hitting the roof, and he saw in the corner of his eye a window, curtains drawn. Brief flashes of lightening lit up the small uncovered parts of the pane, and it was with gratitude that he was here, and not out there, that Riley fell asleep.