By midday, half the otter-kin village turns out to see them off, waving from the docks and calling farewells across the water as the carriages rattle back onto the sun-baked road toward Fenwick's Crossing, where Kamiko's brothel, and the last of Lucien's business here, is waiting.
Inside the carriage, Lucien and Kamiko fall into easy, familiar shorthand over the last of the trade details, numbers and dates passed back and forth like they've been doing this together for years instead of two weeks, while Brina sits pressed against the window, a soft, dreamy smile frozen on her face, eyes fixed somewhere out past the passing trees.
"I hate that you're leaving tomorrow," Kamiko says, glancing up from her notes. "I hope we get a little private time in before then."
Brina giggles from her corner of the seat.
Kamiko turns on her, grinning. "I can't wait to tell your mother you finally got your howl."
