"Do you need help bathin'?" He smiled, his tone smug. When I quickly stammered out a loud "No!" he only laughed and let me know that his sisters could help me if I needed it. I'm not certain how that would have made the situation any better. Before he left, I bothered him for some painkillers as well, which thankfully I now had access to freely in the kitchen cabinet.
As he left, I locked the door behind him and drew the curtains, sinking into the hot bath shortly after. The feeling was... euphoric. The sound of the fireplace cackling gave me such peace. There was a bar of soap sitting on the cabinets I scrubbed myself with, hoping it was secretly some sort of wood stain I was too foolish to recognize. For now, with worries cast aside, I was in bliss. Later in the night, I'd hear a knocking at the door, followed by a plate of food left outside for me.
The days would continue like this. Shania, a woman who took after the young boy greatly in terms of vocality, would come to check my health and investigate the glove on my wrist. Though I tried speaking to her several times, I would only get the answer to some of my questions through Von later that night. Von would stop by and chat with me every night, poke fun at me in some way or another, and I'd pout about it for a moment. I learned he treated his sisters much the same. He had no hopes for moving out to the mainland; he was perfectly happy here. His only goal, which was difficult to prompt out of him, was to build his own car someday. A strange goal, but I often found men to be strange to begin with. When he asked me the question in kind, I had nothing to reply with.
It was only after a week of this—an amount of time that was sufficiently long enough for me to have grounded myself in reality while also going insane from boredom—that I began to help out around the ranch. It was cumbersome to work with the claw on my hand, but with some learned finesse I was able to do simple tasks like carrying hay out to the cow barns I hadn't seen in the night before.
I wouldn't see Von at all during the day, nor any of the other men, for that matter. Shania as well was off somewhere else. However, there was the youngest sister and a woman I would come to learn was Von's mother. At first they were both seemingly quite shy, but after another week of menial labor and watching from afar, the mother spoke to me first.
"You're quite diligent," the older woman had come up from behind me, frightening me to the point that the tail on my fur stood on end. I was in the middle of chopping lumber for the upcoming winter, a season which had already begun to creep its way into the air. I was dressed heavily in Shania's hand-me-downs, some rustic warm clothing that was likely a few generations older than her.
"Oh—! I suppose, if you say so," I smiled politely back at her. Now that I could take a good look at her, she was the spitting image of Von. The same dark hair, the same deep blue eyes, a somewhat softer appearance than what one would expect to find on a farm. I admired her lovingly embroidered white dress, thinking to myself that she likely did it herself, for she seemed the type to do so. "My name is Efini," I extended my good hand to her.
"Daphne," the woman responded as she took my hand in hers. Her gentle expression soothed any doubts in my mind I might have had about her, her kind grip making me long for a hug. When she let go, I couldn't help but feel a greater longing to hang on. "Has anyone taught you how to cut firewood before?"
I shook my head no, though it seemed I didn't need to do so. She knew the answer already; I could see it in her wise blue eyes. I also needn't speak before she was crouched down on the ground, pulling my legs apart and pushing my right foot forward. The way she guided me along brought back memories of my kindergarten teacher.
"You want to keep your legs spread like this, otherwise when the axe comes down, you may find the trajectory going right into them!" she informed me. "And, swing like this, with your hand up at the head and slide it down with you as you go."
Once, then twice, then thrice. It took several tries before Daphne was satisfied with my posture and performance. Each time I tried something I would look to her for guidance, only to get an approving nod.
"No, you're raising it too far back!" she scolded me after the axe came down to split the wood.
"You nodded, though," I blinked in confusion at her.
"I'm not going to interrupt you while you're making a mistake unless you're about to hurt yourself. You need to be confident in your actions, even if they're wrong, or that doubt might come back to bite you," she lectured me firmly, but not harshly.
After a few hours my arms were ready to give out, and Daphne was ready to teach me how to cook dinner. We entered my cabin, where Daphne chastised me for not performing proper upkeep almost immediately.
"It's dirty in here. Peel these potatoes and I'll start cleaning up," she directed me. Though, as I started to peel, she stuck by my side to explain the intricacies of that as well. It would have been easy to feel annoyed by her, and if my own mother had tried to do this I might have become frustrated and stormed off, but instead I was enthralled by this picture-perfect housewife.
"My husband died a few years ago," she started suddenly. I was taken aback by the straightforward confession, but didn't dare interrupt. "A lot of troublemakers from the southeast come out here to the verdant coast. They want a new life, they want to see a brighter future and join the military, change their ways. The grass might be greener here, but it's no paradise," she shook her head. "That boy didn't have a lick of common sense, and I had to straighten him out like I'm doing to you right now."
Daphne smiled at me, the banter lessening the tension I could feel building in my gut.
"They've all got pretty silver and bright hair out there. Must be where your family's from as well," she added, clearly attempting to fish for some information as well.
"Maybe," I shrugged. "I've only ever known Astoria—er, the mainland." Von had informed me that residents of the Old Country didn't refer to what I called Astoria as such, as they believed Astoria made up both the main continent and this island equally. A subtle nuance that could get someone into a fair bit of trouble amongst the more patriotic. When Daphne pressed for more information about my family, all I could answer was that I truly didn't know. I had never asked my family such questions, and time spent regaling history of any lineage was given to my older siblings. Repeating the stories, I suppose, would have been a bother.
"Well, I suppose your family must have left here during the Great Exodus. Beastfolk haven't been born here since then," she added so casually I nearly missed it.
"Wait, what?"