The group stepped into a spacious warehouse owned by Rava’s , its cavernous interior lit by beams of sunlight filtering through high windows. Shelves lihe walls, packed with crates, barrels, and bundles of supplies. The faint st of dust, oiled metal, and aged wood filled the air, a reminder of the space’s utilitarian purpose. Workers moved with purpose between the aisles, some carrying heavy loads while others scribbled notes on clipboards or ied iory.

  Rava led the group to ay table he ter of the room, her movements precise and deliberate. She pulled a folded sheet of part from her belt and spread it ft, revealing a detailed list of supplies written in her hand.

  “These are the essentials,” she began, her voice steady as she tapped her cwed finger against the part. “Most of this be sourced here—standard supplies for operations. But some of these are more specialized, and we’ll o seek out artisans or merts iy.”

  Vivienne leaned closer, sing the list with a thoughtful hum. “I’m guessing these ented wards fall into the ‘specialized’ category?”

  Rava nodded. “Correct. We’ll o visit an artificer for those. They keep the aetherbeasts away at night.”

  Before Vivienne could respond, a burly lekine worker approached, his broad shoulders dusted with sawdust. He carried himself with the ease of someone who’d worked the warehouse for decades. “Twilight Fang,” he greeted Rava with a respectful nod, his voice gruff but polite. “What we do for you?”

  “Jorren." Rava ined her head. “I need assistahering these supplies,” Rava replied, gesturing to the list. “The basics should be in stock, but I’ll need firmation.”

  The worker leaned over the part, his sharp eyes sing the items. “Aye, most of this we have ready within the hour. Anything marked with a star—” he poio a few entries “—we’ll have to double-cheventory for. Might be running low on climbing gear.”

  Kivvy, who had been idly sniffing at a crate of dried goods, chimed in, “Better make sure you’ve got enough food too. I’m not risking starvation on this little outing.”

  The worker raised a brow at the goblin but didn’t ent, iurning his attention back to Rava. “I'll feteoo help me bring what we to you.”

  “Thank you, Jorren,” Rava said. She g the group. “In the meantime, we’ll hahe more specialized items ourselves. Vivienne, Kivvy—work with Jorren to ehe basics are packed and ready. Renzia and I will hahe other preparations.”

  Jorren nodded, motioning to another worker nearby. A younger lekih an armful of tools hurried over, her expression eager as she awaited instrus. “I’ll take them to aisles six and nine,” Jorren said, gesturing to Vivienne and Kivvy. “That should cover most of what they’ll need.”

  Vivienne raised a brow at Rava. “You’re not stig with us?”

  “I trust you ha,” Rava replied with a faint smirk. “Try not to wander off a lost, okay?”

  “Funny.” Vivienne shot her a look but followed Jorren and his assistant as they headed toward the shelves.

  Vivierudged after Jorren and the younger lekine, her tail swishing with faint irritation. Rava's smirk lingered in her mind, and the subtle jab g her pride. Wander off a lost? She scoffed silently. As if she'd ever hear the end of it if she did.

  The aisles were narrow, lined with crates and shelves stuffed with tools, gear, and odds and ends she couldn’t immediately identify. It smelled of wood, oil, and faint traces of dust—funal, if ly inviting. Kivvy trotted along beside her, her wide eyes sing the rows like a child in a dy shop.

  “Aisle six,” Said Jorren, motioning ahead. The younger lekine was already darting ahead, her enthusiasm b on reckless. “We’ll grab your survival kits and field tools there. Nine’s got the heavier stuff—camping gear, rations, and the like.”

  Vivienne nodded absently, her gaze flig to Kivvy, who had stopped to i something on the shelf. “Keep moving,” Vivienne said lightly, nudging her forward with her tail. “We’re not here to window shop.”

  Kivvy grinned sheepishly but fell bato step. “There’s just so much stuff! It’s all so... useful-looking.”

  Jorren chuckled dryly. “Useful’s the goal. This warehouse is mostly for specialised military supplies, such as re gear or special operations. The one for most soldiers is several buildings down.”

  The group moved swiftly through aisle six, gathering survival kits and a few extras Jorren deemed essential—a pact toolset, ara coil of rope. By the time they reached aisle he real challenge began. The heavier equipment piled up quickly, requiring teamwork to load the trolley.

  The younger lekine grabbed a small tent, struggling as her knees wobbled us weight. Her arms trembled, her face red with effort, but she stubbornly held on. “I’ve got it!” she insisted, though her voice betrayed the strain.

  Vivienne, watg from the er of her eye, stepped forward with casual grace. “You’re about to have it on the floor,” she quipped. With one hand, she plucked the tent from the lekine’s grip like it weighed nothing, hefting it over her shoulder before pg it ly orolley.

  Jorren paused mid-checklist, his sharp gaze nding on her. “That’s not light,” he said, his toral but tinged with surprise.

  Vivienne smirked, brushing off the remark with an air of nonce. “Guess I’m built tougher than I look.”

  She turo another crate marked “Reinforced Stakes” and popped it open. Inside were bundles of thick steel rods. Without hesitation, she scooped up aire set in both arms, her movements steady and deliberate as she stacked them onto the trolley.

  The lekine gawked. “You carried all of that like it was nothing!”

  “Maybe it was nothing,” Vivienne replied smoothly, her tail flig in amusement. She turo Jorren, her smirk sharpening. “Are we done here, or should I carry the trolley too?”

  Jorren’s lips twitched, his posure faltering for a moment before he muttered, “Effit. I’ll give you that.”

  The assistant lekiill wide-eyed, scrambled to grab smaller items, clearly eager to avoid being shown up again. Kivvy, oher hand, nudged Vivieh a grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re scary strong, you know that?”

  Vivienne offered a nont shrug, though her tail swished in satisfa. “Don’t worry. I’ll only use my powers food.”

  Kivvy’s expression fttened, her deadpan response immediate. “I know for a fact that’s a lie.”

  Vivienne grinned wide, the sharpness of her teeth on full dispy as her face split open into something almost serpentine. Her long tongue flicked out, zily running over her lips as she recalled the feast from mere nights before. “They were traitors to the ,” she protested, her tone light and unbothered. “I don’t see how that’s evil.”

  Kivvy shivered, her grin faltering. “You’re terrifying when you say things like that, you know.”

  “That’s the idea,” Vivienne replied, giving the trolley a final shove that sent it rolling toward the end of the aisle with surprising speed. “Keeps things iing.”

  Jorren, who had been walking slightly ahead, gnced back at Vivienne, his sharp eyes betraying a mix of wariness and grudging respect. “Let’s hope Lady Ravanyr appreciates your... enthusiasm.”

  Vivienne’s grin widened, sharp and teasing. “Oh, she has. More than once, actually.”

  Jorren coughed awkwardly, quickly looking ahead, while the assistant lekine blinked in fusion. When uanding finally dawned, her face turned beet red, and she busied herself adjusting the items orolley to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

  As they rouhe er, the group caught sight of Rava, who was already statio a rge table. Spread across it were several ons—sleek and deadly in their craftsmanship. A wickedly curved dagger gleamed uhe overhead lights, alongside a pact crossbow and a set of throwing knives. Rava stood with her arms crossed, her expression cool and posed, though her sharp eyes flicked toward the approag trolley.

  “You’re te,” Rava said dryly, though there was no real heat in her voice.

  Vivieepped forward, hands on her hips. “Bme your aisles. Too many shiny things to sift through.”

  Rava arched a brow, her smirk faint but cutting. “A, somehow, you mao survive. Impressive.”

  “Impressive’s my middle name,” Vivienne shot back, her tail swishing behind her.

  Jorren, ign the exge, motioo the supplies. “Everything’s here, Lady Ravanyr. Packed and ated for.”

  Rava stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the trolley before nding on Vivienne. “Good. Let’s see if you’re as capable anizing it all as you are of carrying it.”

  Vivienne rolled her eyes, but her grin stayed sharp. “Do I look like a quartermaster to you?”

  Rava’s smirk deepened, her tone edged with dry amusement. “No, but you’re someone who o stay busy—otherwise, I’d have even more reasons to worry.”

  Kivvy stifled a ugh behind her hand, earning a sharp sideways gnce from Vivienne. “You’re enjoying this a little too much,” Vivietered.

  “Guilty as charged,” Kivvy said with an unabashed grin. She quickly darted forward to grab one of the smaller crates, dodging Vivienne’s retaliatory flick of her tail with practiced ease.

  Rava’s attention shifted as she reached for the crossbow oable. Her gaze flicked to Kivvy. “I don’t know what your level of training is, but I figured a dagger is better than nothing. What about this crossbow—could you use it?”

  Kivvy tilted her head, sidering. Then, with surprising agility, she climbed onto the edge of the table and sat on her knees, examining the on with a critical eye. “Nah, too big for me. Reloading it would take forever,” she said, shaking her head. “Goblins where I’m from werely allowed near ons, so we had to get... creative. Shiv here, explosive there—give me the right materials, and I could whip up some boom sticks.”

  Vivienne arched a brow. “Boomsticks?”

  Kivvy grinned, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. “Throwy sticks with explody bits on one end. Loud, fshy, gets the job done. Doesn’t need much fancy aim, either.”

  Vivienne nodded sagely, her expression thoughtful. “Ah, grenades.”

  Kivvy blinked, whipping her head around. “What’s a grenade? Aype of boomstick?”

  “Sort of,” Vivienne said, her grin growing sharper. “Picture a small metal filled with explosives. It’s got a fuse and a pin to keep it from going off until you’re ready. Pull the pin, toss it, and boom.”

  Kivvy’s curiosity alpable as she leaned in, almost boung ooes. “Wouldn’t the metal just stop the explosion?”

  Vivienne shook her head, her tone slipping into something almost teacherly. “Nope. You use thial that’s desigo shatter when it detohe explosion bsts the fragments outward, turning them into deadly little shards. Whatever you hit gets the worst of both.”

  Kivvy’s face lit up in awe. “You know, sometimes you think like a goblin.”

  Vivieilted her head, her grin widening. “I think she just plimented me.”

  Rava cleared her throat, cutting through the banter. “We try to source the materials for your ‘boomsticks,’ Kivvy, but only for emergencies. Noise like that in the wilds with a group this size? It’s a risk we ’t afford.”

  Kivvy defted slightly but nodded, muttering under her breath. “Fine, fine. Emergencies only.”

  Rava turned her attention to Vivienne, her voice calm but pointed. “I take it you won’t be needing any ons?”

  Vivienne puffed her chest dramatically. “I am a deadly on!” she decred, her voice dripping with mock menace as she threw her arms wide. “Behold!”

  Rava barely spared her a gnce, her expression unamused. “Mhm.” She turned away, tinuing her checklist without aowledging Vivienne’s cag. “Renzia, do you require anything?”

  The mannequin, as silent as ever, stepped forward and pulled out her ste. With measured movements, she began to scribble in her , deliberate handwriting. She tur toward Rava.

  I do not need ons. I have my needles. I would like a sewing kit for repairs.

  “That sounds reasonable,” Rava said, nodding as she made a note on her list. She gnced over the supplies with a critical eye. “We’re nearly there. I still o visit an enter for warding rods, and we’re short on powdered cold iron for the talismans. Ohose are secured, we should be ready to leave.”

  Jorren stepped closer, his tone brisk. “I’ll prepare the transport crates. Shouldn’t take more than an hour to finalize.”

  “Good.” Rava’s gaze swept the group, lingering briefly on each of them. “Finish anizing the rest of this. When I return, I don’t want to hear that you’ve gotten into trouble—or broken anything.”

  Vivienne pced a hand over her heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, Lady Ravanyr. I am the picture of restraint.”

  Kivvy snickered. “She said trouble and breaking things. Restraint wasn’t mentioned.”

  Rava gave them both a long, unimpressed look before walking away, leaving Vivieo fsh Kivvy a toothy grin. “You’re lucky she likes you.”

  “Lucky? I’m indispensable,” Kivvy retorted, grabbing another small crate for the pile.

  Renzia, meanwhile, quietly reanized a stack of tools, her movements eerily precise, as though she were guided by urings. Her featureless face tilted slightly toward Vivienne, who caught the motion and raised a brow. “What? You got something to say, Renzia?”

  The mannequin remaiill for a moment before shaking her head aurning to her task, leaving Vivieo mutter, “Cryptic as always.” Her gaze lingered on Renzia for a beat lohe oddity of the mannequin’s quiet preseugging at her curiosity. But the moment passed, and she turned her focus back to Rava.

  Vivierode up to the warrioress and reached up to tap her shoulder lightly with the tip of her cw. “When are we leavily? I’ve got a couple of things issioned—actual clothes this time, the kind that don’t disie the moment I, uh, find a fight.”

  Rava paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she thought. “Tomorrow, ideally. Though, perhaps we should wait awo or three days to get everything in order. I’ve been sidering ygestion about pulling the wagon. We’ll o get a harness fitted for you.”

  Vivieilted her head, trying to mask the flicker of excitement that the idea sparked withihere was something strangely appealing about the thought of her wolf form being put to practical use, though she’d rather gnaw her own tail off than admit it ht. “I’ll stick with the wolf form, then. Tonight, I’ll work on shrinking it down a bit. Less monstrous, more manageable.”

  “Good idea,” Rava replied, nodding her approval. “Aim fhly the size of a quocha. Slightly rger would be fioo.”

  “A... quocha?” Vivienne echoed, tilting her head further, her fusion pin. The room seemed to collectively pause, every gaze snapping to her as though she’d just asked if water was wet. Kivvy, in particur, looked as though she were physically holding back from making a sarcastient.

  Rava raised her paw to shoulder height to demonstrate. “It’s a e beast of burden. About this tall at the shoulder and four to five times as long. on enough in the bordernds.”

  “Oh.” Vivienne’s lips quirked upward in a genuine smile. “Thank you, darling. I’ll do my best.”

  Rava simply returned her gaze, her expression unreadable. “See that you do.”

  With that, she turned back to the group, her focus shifting to the remaining preparations. Vivieood there for a moment, allowing the sileo settle around them. There was something strangely f about it. No need for teasing, no need for extra words. Just the quiet hum of a task nearing pletion.

  Vivieretched, feeling the familiar warmth of anticipation building within her. In a few days, they’d be on the move. It had been a while since she’d been on the road, ae everything, there was something she couldn’t shake—a sense of purpose. She let her gaze wander over to Kivvy, who was adjusting one of the crates, and then to Renzia, who had already started to gather her things in her usual silent way.

  Tonight though, Vivienne would experiment.

  SupernovaSymphony