As I roved out on a May morning—on a May morning right early—I spied my love upon the way; oh Elsbeth, but she was early!

Young, that is to say. She was young and quite small, and knitting away upon a bench in the village square, working on what looked to be a quilt or scarf, perhaps. ‘Twas a wonder that she busied herself so at this work, rather than cavort amongst the other little ones at play nearby, for the weather was most agreeable that day and the warm, sweet air of Summer was upon us. Indeed, the whole village seemed up and about: moving sacks of grain here, rolling out barrels of cider there; and all throughout could the scent of freshly hewn wheat and baking bread be scented. ‘Twas truly Summerseason Festa time again! 
An idea came to me at my first gaze upon the girl, and I then chanced to act on it. The girl working so diligently with her wool-and-needles paid me not any mind, even as I took my rest beside her on the bench. Her dress was of simple make, yet elegant in a pastel green that reminded me of the first flowerbuds of Spring and the white buttons that ran down the blouse were the blooms. Her honey-colored hair was tied into a braid down her back, between her long leporine ears whose fur was just a shade lighter than her hair, and pierced with a polished wooden bauble in each. The rhythmic clacking of her craftiwork and the speed at which she manipulated the thick strands of wool into a neat, dense mat was entrancing to watch and told of long-practiced skill at the art. Indeed, so fixed was the young doe’s dark-eyed gaze upon her task that a full minute had passed before she noticed me seated beside her, observing.
“Good Rah!” The child startled upon seeing me then. So great was her surprise that she nearly dumped her wool-and-needles and nascent craftiwork onto the crude footpath.
“Ah, begging your pardon, sir! I hadn’t seen you approach and your sudden appearance did me quite a frighten!” Her eyes turned downward once again at her work and her ears started to tremble and quake, a behavior that belied her embarrassment if I knew my Rabbits well—which I like to think I did. Yes, I did believe then that this wee little bunny would suit my fancy most fittingly.
I doffed my hat and rose to my footpaws to give the abashed Rabbit kit an elegant bow. “Rupert the Squirrel, a highest pleasure it is to make your acquaintance, young miss.” I took the girl’s paw within mine then, and brought it up midway to plant upon it a peck, and I chanced to see the girl’s eyes widen as I gave her a sly, winning grin. Her paw was warm and quivered just slightly; and so delicate, like the silken petals of a moonblossom.
“E-Eliza,” the girl started. “Eliza the Rabbit. It’s a fine pleasure to meet you as well, good sir.” She dipped her head respectfully, her gaze flickering between myself and her knitting as I reclaimed my seat beside her.
	“I could not help but notice you knitting as you sat here all by your lonesome self. I am surprised that you refrain from frolicking with your friends out in the square on a beauteous day as this. Or, perhaps you’re making a gift for a young buck that you fancy, hmm?”
	The shy Rabbit’s ears took once again to quaking upon her head, so much so that I feared she would lose her earrings! “Oh no! Nothing of the sort, sir! I don’t have—th-that is to say—I don’t know of anyone I would give such a thing to!”
	“Is that so?” I cried out in mock surprise. “Why, I would have staked my affidavit that a lovely, endearing, and—might I say—splendidly talented doe as yourself would have all the boys positively clamoring a dozen counties around for your attention! It seems to me that they don’t know what they’re missing out on, and theirs is the loss for it!”
	Clearly, the befuddled girl didn’t even have the words for the emotions buzzing about her cute, fuzzy head; so I gave her some myself. “So, Eliza the Rabbit, what is it that you’re making there? It’s quite good; I can see you have substantial talent.” I punctuated the compliment with another sly grin.
“Oh, this? ‘Tis nothing, really. This is simply for the household; I live with my mother at the top of the hill you see, and, well, with the passing of my dear father who died in the War, my mother grew cold and bitter and a frightfully stern task-mistress who would run us bone-tired until nightfall. Moreover, my sister has found herself a husband and has since moved away to live with him, so there’s yet ever more chores to do for me.” I noticed a change in the pretty doe then: a slight lowering of her ears, her gaze going distant.
A sister, eh? Yes, I daresay I was correct in my consideration of this one!  “Aah, I see, you miss your sister dearly, I can tell, and this mother of yours sounds like a right cantankerous old crow!” I placed my paw tentatively, upon her shoulder, and in receiving no negative reaction toward my touch, I patted her gently. Eliza turned her gaze to me then, with her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“Yes, it’s true, I do miss my sister so. She is but five years my elder and so we have been together for as long as I can remember. It pains me not to be able to see her every day, but I know that her husband is a good buck and will dote upon my sister for all their days.”
“And where, praytell, does your sister live now? I ramble and rove all about these parts; perhaps in my travels I may chance to find her and relay to her a message from her darling baby sister, hmm?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful! She lives now an hours’ ride to the Northeast, in Habershire, upon the Fork Road just before one arrives at the Highway of Lords to Utopia.”
“Ah-ha! Yes! I know that road right well, I do!” I lied. “As it just happens, I’m traveling to Utopia myself, to enlist as a Royal Guard and become a defender of the realm!” At this, I took the opportunity to puff out my chest and strike an impressive figure, glad for the first time for such a lean season it was the previous Winter that caused me to shed most of my fatness in my travels.
“Wow! That sounds like such a glorious adventure! Where then are you from, good sir?” 
“Ah, me? Pish-posh, nowhere really,” I gave the question a dismissive wave with my paw. “Or, perhaps, one might say everywhere! I roam all around Calico you see; to explore what there is to explore; to see what there is to see; to do what there is to do! The only home I know are the highways and byways, and wherever I lay my head to rest at night. So is the way of the traveling people!”
Eliza clasped her paws together and sighed. “Aah, how I would long to travel the world as you do! I’m sure you must have seen and done some amazing things in your journeying! Ah, but alas, as the only child left in our house, I must stay and assist my mother, despite her…less than kindly bearing. Perhaps, one day, when I myself marry, I shall travel with my husband across the land.”
A sincere smile shone on my face then, as the threads of my plot began weaving together like the strands of wool of the child’s craftiwork. I pressed on.

“Tell me, how old are you, my bonny wee girl? How old are you, my darling?” She shook herself as if coming out of her daze, before lifting her eyes to my own.
“I’ll be thirteen on Sunday!” She said, the pride of her birthday arriving on the morrow did 
seem to banish the shyness from her bearing. Indeed, her ears perked right up to full mast.
	“Lovely!” I said. “A wonderful, happy early birthday to you, my dear!”
	“Thank you kindly, sir! Yes, come midnight tonight, no more shall I be a wee Rabbit-kit among my kind, but a real doe!” She put aside her wool-and-needles; she was then, no doubt, utterly filled with the prospect of taking up the mantle of maturity that the previous shy and timorous Eliza was gone entirely.
	“Ah! Youth! To be so young again!” I chortled. “Ah, but what about…Oh, but perhaps Rabbit coming-of-age traditions differ from those of Squirrels?” I asked, giving an air of mystery about my cryptic speech.
The girl took the draw right on cue. “Sir? Whatever do you mean? To which traditions are you referring?” I could tell by the look in her dark eyes that this soon-to-be doe was truly unaware of what I was suggesting. So, being the kindly gentleman I was, I did deign to let her know.
“You see,” I started, leaning in close and lowering my voice. “We Squirrels have a tradition. When one of us turns thirteen, we are to ask a suitable companion…into our bed…to mate with for the first time.”
Eliza pulled back abruptly, setting her ears off like so many aspens in a gale. “Mating! Oh my!” The Rabbit girl seemed fit to swoon right on the spot.
“Now, now,” I said. “‘Tis nothing to be all in tizzy about, it’s a wholesome and natural act, and quite a bit satisfying too, if I may add. And as you said before, you’ll be a mature doe come midnight, yes? And that your older sister has gone off with her lover; well, surely you realize what they get up to on the cold, windy nights? Do not feel shame about such a loving and salubrious engagement. Besides, surely you’ve had certain thoughts? Dreams? Feelings? Curiosities?” As I spoke these honeyed words, I could see the Rabbit knew exactly what I meant. Yes, indeed, the look of desire from many sleepless nights alone in her trundle-bed; her burgeoning loins afire with new passion; all this was as plain to see within her eyes as the gray hairs in my old Ma’s bush-tail.
Eliza opened her mouth to speak, but I quickly put a finger on her lips to silence her. “Say not a word, little one, for I know exactly what it is that you desire. Simply nod your head and I shall return this night to your house at the top of the hill, and with the sound of a wood thrush, thusly,” and I pursed my lips and whistled a passing imitation of the bird, “open your door to me and I shall take thee into thy chamber and do unto thee as I had once done upon my lovely bedmate when I was once your age, all those many years ago.” The girl squirmed under my touch and my words of proposition, and with the most faint of movement, she gave me her silent consent.
“Excellent! But that’s not all, my lissom love, upon the morrow thou shalt be bonded to me—in proper Squirrel tradition—as bed-wife, and not even the bitter blustering of your baneful, brutish baroness shall rend our bliss in twain!” 
I feared at that moment I had dared the wheel of fortune one too many times with my audacious persistence, flowery parlance, and outright fiction. But, thankfully, the young girl leapt to her footpaws at the prospect.
“Yes! Yes! I would love nothing more than to be away from here! I shall await you eagerly tonight, for it shall be the last night of my unhappiness!” Eliza threw her arms around me in a tight, warm embrace which I returned whole-heartedly, my paws meandering up and down the back of her light, linen dress, like soldiers scouting out the territory of a future conquest.
“Then let it be so!” I hoisted her up from under her arms and spun in her a twirl before setting her down. “I shall see you tonight then, my love! Go now, back to the house for to not let your cruel mother become wise to our tryst!”
“I shall await you most exuberantly! Farewell!” Eliza the Rabbit took back up her wool-and-needles and loped back up the road in the direction of the hill.
Oh, yes, tonight will be a most delightful encounter indeed.

***

I went to the house at the top of the hill, and the moon was shining clearly.

As I approached the property, I could see that it was not much more than a lowly hovel: two floors tall, with a roof of thatch and hay that was visibly sagging in places, worn down and tangled with the seasons and the lack of proper maintenance; rude wooden boards stood as window coverings that seemed to have been painted once though now were mostly bare with a faint patina of color; the front garden seemed overgrown with weeds and the unruly sprawl of disheveled plant-life. 
As promised I went underneath the upstairs window and whistled like a wood thrush until I heard the front door unlatch and open, and I saw my fair Eliza framed in the light of a lone candle-lamp held in her paw. She ran out to greet me with an embrace, which I matched with fervor, and added a kiss to her cheek for good measure.
“You came! You came!” the Rabbit cried. “I feared, perhaps, that in my lonely and desperate position I had merely invented our encounter as a figment of my melancholy spirit. But here you stand before me, all fur and blood!” Her eyes brimmed with tears at the sight of my presence at her door.
“Indeed I did, my love, indeed I did,” I cupped her soft, tan-furred cheek and wiped away a tear with my thumb. “Weep not, for the time of your deliverance is at hand. Lead me to thy bedchamber and there we shall conjoin ourselves and in so doing free thee from thy wicked mother’s clutches!” I saw her knees tremble beneath her, verily I felt her whole body quiver and quake in my embrace. Her warmth against mine was a sureguard against the cool night air, and belied the heat of our upcoming relations.
She took my paw within her own and very nearly toppled me head-over-tail in her eagerness to retreat to our couple-bed. The inside of the hovel was as plain and drab as the outside woefully promised. The dim light of my love’s candle-lamp illuminated a dreary living space with bare wooden furnishings overused and overworn to the point of collapse scattered about like so many dry, dusty Autumn leaves; the dark, open maw of an abandoned hearth sat crouched in the corner of the room whose presence there gave a feeling of coldness in spite of its purpose. Eliza led me to the right up the wooden stairs by the door, whose boards wailed in protest of our ascent until we arrived at the landing. The upper floor was devoid of the trappings of a family home with bare walls, sagging roof, the damp odor of moldering thatch. Along the narrow corridor were three doors; one for each of the family I would assume. And just as soon as my dear Eliza’s paw touched upon the worn brass knob of the nearest, the door at the end of the hall was thrown open and from inside came the gleaming of a second candle-lamp in the paw of a buxom, brown-furred Rabbit.
“Eliza!” came a cry. The voice of the doe split the silence like a whipcrack. “Eliza, what are you doing up at this hour!?” She snapped her head suddenly onto me and she nearly keeled over right on the spot, which if I may say, would have been preferable to what came next.
“Who is this MAN? Eliza! Eliza! Have you brought home a MAN!?” I opened my mouth to speak but was quickly overridden by the blustering of the woman. “You BEAST! You BEAST! You filthy, foul BEAST!”
	With a level of speed and finesse that was truly quite impressive, the Rabbit woman dashed forward and grabbed Eliza roughly by the ears, hauling the poor girl away and bodily down the stairs, whilst my not-to-be lover did attempt to plead her case.
“Mother! Mother! Please listen! You don’t understand—” Eliza wept.
“Oh I understand quite readily, child! I was your age once and I know what thoughts and ideas are buzzing around that foolish head of yours! But to act on them!? That is why you are a BEAST!” I followed them down the stairs to see Eliza still in the firm grip of her mother, being pulled toward the hearth. Seeing the mother in a better light now in the spacious living area, it was immediately clear where the girl’s beauty came from. Eliza’s mother was a sturdy, well-built Rabbit with the same flowing, gold locks as she, hanging loose about a nightgown whose fitting left the frame of the woman's body plain to see. My tail curled up at the realization that I have happened upon a family of a most fortunate bloodline, at least as far as feminine appeal can be said.
At this point, Eliza’s mother, still with her daughter in her vice-like grip, took up the root of a hazel branch from off the mantle of the hearth and raised it up over her head, shouting, “This is what BEASTS deserve!” She kneeled down upon one leg and forced Eliza over her outstretched knee, and brought the hazel branch down severely against the poor girl’s bottom with a crack and a wail of pain from the girl.
Whap! Whap! Whap! went the hazel branch against the Rabbit girl’s rear end, each one eliciting a shriek from Eliza, in full view of myself, who had been standing and watching the whole scene play out before me with nary even a word or glance from the woman. I am but a humble Squirrel; far be it from me to interfere in the domestic disputes of strangers!
“Sir Rupert! Sir Rupert!” Eliza cried out from her castigation. “Will you marry me now, my Royal Guard? Will you marry me now or never? Will you marry me now my Royal Guard? Can’t you see I'm done forever!?”
At this, and with a violent wrench of the mother’s body and a stern glare that nearly made me cringe as much as Eliza, she did then turn to regard me anew. “What is this? What is this? What is this about marriage!?” Ah, alas, time to cut my losses at this juncture.
“Well I won’t marry you my bonny, wee girl. I won’t marry you my darling. For I have got a wife at home, and how could I disown her?”
Eliza’s cry was drowned out once again by her mother’s refrain of “You BEAST! You BEAST! You BEAST!” with a firm and echoing whap! with the hazel branch each time. After much time and more beatings than I can count, Eliza was hauled up once again to her footpaws. Her thin nightdress was now all shredded and torn at the bottom, exposing her bare, tan fur and femininity to me for the first time; her fur was likewise torn and disheveled and her tender flesh swollen and battered. But it turned out Mother wasn’t quite finished.
Eliza was once again yanked by the lopears towards the back of the house, with me in tow as witness. Out the back door we went, into the cool night, until we came to an old, wooden shed. Then mother proclaimed: “If you want to act like a BEAST, you shall live like a BEAST!” And she pulled the rickety, splintered door of the tiny woodshed open and flung her daughter into the dusty gloom within, slamming the door back shut and securing a rusty padlock to the latch, imprisoning the unfortunate child within.
Eliza quickly took to banging and pounding on the door from inside, and her cries of help were audible but muffled, but mother paid her no heed and instead turned on to me.
“And as for you!” she started as she approached quickly, causing me to take a few steps back in surprise toward the back door of the house. She let out a sigh and curtsied deeply.
“My sincerest apologies for the behavior of my BEAST of a daughter! For her to have harassed you so and to bring you all the way here to my doorstep, I cannot apologize enough for the inconvenience and burden she has caused you! Please, I know it is late, but come inside, stay for a bit of tea before you go! Or some cider perhaps!”
I didn’t miss a beat. “Ah! Cider sounds lovely, ma’am, thank you kindly!”
The matronly Rabbit sucked in a breath and brought her paws to her dainty lips. 
“Excuse me again for my terrible manners this night! Forgive me for I am distraught!” She bowed her head low, her long, delicate ears brushing gently against my chest. “I am Dawn the Rabbit, and I welcome you to my humble home!” As she rose, I saw in her face an uncanny resemblance to that of Eliza, all grace and beauty, with dark eyes like the clever, sporting girls of the City. Perhaps there’s a chance to salvage this night yet!
 “A most wonderful pleasure to meet you, Dawn the Rabbit!” I doffed and bowed and donned again, took up her paw gently and planted upon it a kiss; a well-practiced routine that unfortunately does lose some charm when there happens to be a clamor of banging and shouting about, but it still seemed to do the trick.
We retreated back into the home, whereupon more lamps were lit, and upon seeing the interior under more light, the appearance no longer seemed as dire and dingy as I had thought upon entering firstly. Dawn sat me down at a long table, smoothed and worn with the years of family gatherings, and returned shortly with two mugs of warm, fresh, Summer cider. I took my cup to my nose and breathed in deep the scent of citrus fruit and floral blooms, before taking a sip of the lovely quaff. Dawn and I then bandied a while, letting the inebriating nectar play out its liberating effects on us both.
“You know, Dawn,” I started, having just finished off my fourth mug of cider. “Your daughter Eliza is actually quite a lovely girl, in spite of how beastly her behavior might be at times. They say that beauty only gets finer in time, and if that be so then her sister must be just as radiant as Eliza and it’s clear as day that their mother may be as lovely and resplendent as both!” I raised my mug to toast with Dawn’s and we took a moment to gaze into each other's eyes.
“Pfft-hahaha!” Dawn spluttered, breaking down in laughter and bringing her third mug down onto the table with a clatter of porcelain. “I have no idea what you just said!”
I followed after, joining her in merry mirth. “Nor do I, my love, nor do I! Hahaha!”
	The Rabbit woman’s laughter ceased abruptly. She turned onto me a smoldering gaze as that of a lioness in heat. “Oh? Was that a ‘my love’ I heard just then? Oh, Sir Rupert, it’s been so long since anyone has said that to me!” She leaned over the table towards me then and beckoned me closer with a flutter of her eyes.
	“Ah, yes, your Eliza did tell me of the passing of your poor, late husband,” I leaned forward in my seat to meet her. “My deepest condolences. How long ago?”
“Two years.” Dawn put her paw upon my head and ran her fingers through my fur, her sensuous gaze locked with mine. “But two years is long enough to mourn, do you think? I think my dear departed William should wish for me to be happy, hmm?” She purred as she gently pulled me closer until our lips nearly touched.
“I do agree entire—” The Rabbit smothered my response with her kiss firmly pressed upon my lips. She hopped up onto the table and wrapped her arms around me and kissed me greedily. Her lips felt hot and soft, despite her fierce go at it, and I could feel her heart pounding through her slight frame as I returned her embrace.
After some minutes, she broke off the kiss. With a coy smile and more lioness eyes, she took my paw and led me back up the stairs and into the room at the end of the hallway.
The mistress’s room was tidy, if a tad bare, which is all I could make out before she pulled her nightdress off of herself in one move revealing that she had also abandoned her underclothes at some point during the evening—if she had any on at all upon leaving her room earlier that evening! Her body was lithe and supple with ample, matronly breasts whose pink nipples poked out through her brown fur. My eyes traced the curves of her bosom downward to her exposed nethers: a tuft of darker-colored fur visibly dampened with her arousal lightly concealed her doe-sex, a plush and precious passage for me to plunge my pecker into presently! My paws worked quickly to undo my trousers which, once completed, revealed to the good lady in no uncertain terms that I was very much enjoying the Rabbit’s luscious form. Dawn admired me, and with delight by tell of her lascivious smile and burning gaze. She allowed me time to remove my tunic, shirt, and other accouterments until she and I both were in naught but fur, as innocent babes would be. She then padded forward and pressed herself against me, her lips locking against mine once again, while her paw went southward to clasp and stroke my tumescence. I murred and sighed through our deep kiss as her paw worked me up with expertise until I was spilling my moisture over her paws, which in turn did wonders to advance her cause. When I thought she was aiming to make me burst, she stopped her ministrations and lowered herself down upon her knees to the bare wooden floor. I played idly with her long brown lopears when I felt my love take inside of her mouth my turgid cock.
Her mouth and tongue were velvety soft, and well-practiced at pleasure it seemed, and it was all I could do not to cry aloud my passion in response. I grunted and groaned and caressed the Rabbit woman’s long fuzzy ears as she worked me and played me as finely as a piper and her pipe. With the breaking of suction and a sharp intake of breath from my midnight lover, Dawn broke our bond and arose to fall supine into her featherbed with one paw gesturing come-hither and her other rubbing deeply against her womanhood. I hurriedly clambered atop the Rabbit and—with a brief moment to align myself—did press myself into her fully, penetrating her up to the hilt. Her inner body proved to still be a snug and neat fit, even after the birthing of her two daughters, a fact that I could appreciate greatly as I felt her muscles clench and contract around my root. I brought a paw up to grasp her breast which elicited the most delightful squeals from the lady, such sounds that did soon develop into breathless moans as my love and I started to mate in earnest. The old and worn floorboards beneath our couple-bed rattled and squeaked against the rhythm of our vigorous lovemaking, but such silly frivolous thoughts of falling through the floor were far off in my head then, for the whole of me—mind, body, and soul—were fully fixed on the prospect of coupling with this Rabbit. The passion was getting to Dawn as well, for she cried aloud and wrapped both her legs and arms around me, clinging tightly to me as a Squirrel would the bark of a great tree to climb; then her legs flexed tightly around my sides and back as she starting pushing her hips against mine to better facilitate the ardor of our nighttime tryst. I bowed my head to lock lips with Dawn once again, and she responded in kind with vehemence. We remained in this blissful state for some time more: Our bodies plying each other hungrily even while our souls did feed each other the elixir of life; that same, natural, primal recipe that has existed since life was living. The rhythmic dance of our mating became disturbed, as I felt my Dawn shudder beneath me and clutch me within her body, and a lusty scream broke through our kiss. Indeed, the quaking and quivering of my queen’s climax was quite enough to tip my own dinghy over the falls, as it were. I added my tenor to her soprano as I gave into my body’s demands, and I gave her all I could give; sowing my seed deep within the Rabbit woman. 
We laid curled together in the warm bed then, holding each other the way two bowls might, one stacked within the other. My lover must have been worn out quite thoroughly for within a short time she had succumbed to slumber. I suppose I must have dropped off for a nap too, for when I arose again a thin streamer of wan pre-dawn light shimmered through the crooked shutters of the bedroom window. I gently extricated myself from Dawn’s bed, donned all my clothes, gathered up my things, and crept lightly down the creaky stairs. Once outside, I took a deep breath of the cool, sweet-smelling early air, and planned my next move. A knocking was then heard that echoed through the still morning and my ears swiveled toward the source. Ah yes, the woodshed, where poor Eliza was still locked in. She seemed to be knocking on the inside of the door, no longer banging with the fervor of last night, but with the seeming politeness of a caller at one’s front door; she must have tired herself out. Ah well, she really was a delightful young doe; another time perhaps. I slapped my forehead presently, suddenly remembering a neat little tidbit I learned from the poor beast the other day.
“Ah-ha! Where was her sister to be found again?” I skimmed through my memories of our conversation for the answer. “Habershire! Along the Fork Road to the Highway of Lords!” I strode out from the village, then off the cobbled road into a copse of leafy trees where I collected my knapsack I had secreted there yesterday morning.
“What to do about the husband though?” I pondered. “And I do wish I had asked little Eliza for her sister’s name. No bother, it’ll all come out in the wash! Oh, but speaking of wash, I do believe a change of aspect is in order. I think I’ll go au naturel this time.”
I moved further into the forest to the secluded stream I chanced upon yesterday and stripped down to my undershorts. Using the stream and a special liquid solution of my own devising, dark-colored water flowed from my fur as I scrubbed away. Before too long, the artificial color in my fur was washed out, and my natural gray fur felt light and airy. I then reached behind me to the base of my tail, unclasped the secret belt there, and off came the large floppy Squirrel tail revealing my real one, which I wagged gleefully, happy to be rid of such a heavy and overwarm prosthetic. Two more pops of clasps about my ears and the small round Squirrel ears were removed and my long, pointed ones replaced them. I rubbed at my ears briefly to ease out the soreness from having been confined a whole day.
“So long ‘Rupert the Squirrel’! Until next time!” I gently rolled up the bushy tail and fitted it into my knapsack along with the false ears, the jar of cleaning solution, and my clothes I had on. “I think for this next encounter, I’ll try the ‘Lost Scholar’ approach. And for the pesky husband,” I remembered the forging kit in my pack. “Yes, perhaps a summons from a Lord of Utopia would make him scarce. Well, Eliza’s older sister, prepare to meet ‘Brother’ Vincent the Coyote!”
I redressed in a long, dark robe of wool with sandals of simple make, false eye-glasses, and a walking stick to complete the ruse. An hours’ ride meant several more hours by footpaw, and I wanted to be seen by passersby to better veracify my assumed character. I took up my pack once again and started up the road to Habershire, with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.

“A pint at night is my delight, and a gallon in the morning. The old women they are my heartbreak, but the young ones are my darlings!”