• Margaret was so pleased when Sophie’s infusion worked and was quick to spread the word around the village of Sophie’s skill. We stayed three days with Margaret as opposed to the one night while Sophie treated minor ills in the community in exchange for necessities like flour, grain and meat that she would need in the cottage. Sophie was pleased, animated as she spoke with the locals and became acquainted, and so I patiently waited until Sophie was ready to make the final part of the journey.

    I found Margaret herself to be a pleasant improvement over the women like Martha who had worked in the Abbey. Margaret was eager to feed me on cream and refused to denounce me as evil, scoffing when Sophie brought up the fears of the other kitchen women. She was, however, hesitant to have me in the house less I scratch the baby. Wanting to be as far away from the child as possible, I was more than happy with the dry, warm barn to sleep in and spent much of my time reacquainting myself with the byways and paths of the village and visiting from time to time with Sophie to reassure her.

    Another of the many blessings of Margaret was that she was a gossip, keen to relay on any snatch of information regardless of how true it may have been, and she had a long memory. She remembered stories her mother and grandmother used to tell her of young women, and occasionally young men, being led into the village and to the forest cottage by cats. Some of these people had stayed many years, some only briefly until some windfall came their way, but they had all been good people and the community had learned to respect, rather than fear, cats or the humans they guided. These stories she eagerly related to Sophie.

    “They’ve always left the cottage in good repair,” she said, “and always left it set up. My mother used to say that they would find it that way, with blankets and dishes and pots and utensils, and that they were bound to leave it that way for the next inhabitant. Mother also used to say that each person would add something to the cottage, some personal mark. You’ll have to tell me all about it, Sophie! I’d love to see the inside someday, once you’ve gotten yourself settled.”

    Finally, at dawn on the fourth day, Sophie and her supplies were loaded into John’s cart and we bid Margaret farewell. I was not fond of the cart, of the jolting, bouncing movement as it thundered its way along the deeply rutted roads. It was faster for Sophie, however, and allowed her to be well rested. She cradled me in her arms, caressing and stroking me gently, and so I tolerated the ride. As much as I wanted to, I refused to let the comfort of her arms lull me into sleep. I needed to be alert, watchful, and commit to memory as best I could the difference in perspective being in the cart made. I had never traveled long the road before, and so I watched for landmarks should I ever have to pass this way again. In a few short hours, and after leaving the roadway entirely, John halted his horse outside the small, empty cottage.

    The windows were shuttered closed, but some of the slats had come loose over the years and the thatch roof was in need of repair. John promised to return soon with some of the village lads to put it right for Sophie as he helped her to unload her supplies. The door was unlocked, and John opened it, inspecting the one room that lay within for any sign of danger. Apart from the squirrels and other small creatures that had been able to enter through the broken shutters, he assured her that the cottage had been quite empty for years and the thick layer of dust on all of the surfaces attested to this. He left us to make what we would of the cobwebs, dust, and dry leaves that littered the floor.

    Sophie opened all of the shutters wide, allowing the morning sunlight to stream through the windows and highlight the dust motes swirling in the air. In the south-west corner of the cottage, in a nook between the end of the fireplace and the end of a counter, Sophie found a broom which she used to clear away the cobwebs in the corners and to remove the worst of the dust and dirt from the counter, the mantle, shelves and table. The dust was heavy in the air, and I sneezed often from my perch on the sill of the window in the western wall. Sophie had tied a cloth over her mouth and nose to avoid breathing in the worst of the dust. She then swept the floors, denting the dirt and leaves in clouds out through the open door.

    Nothing was safe from Sophie’s cleaning, not a single nook, cranny or corner. The blankets, which had been folded and left on the raised wooden platform built into a nook of the northern wall, were taken outside, hung on a ling which Sophie strung, and beaten until they no longer sent up clouds of dust. The two treated furs that had been beneath the blankets were shaken and then draped over low hanging branches to air while Sophie took a bucket to the nearby stream to collect water. She filled a large basin with the water, trip after trip of it, and left the dishes and pots to soak to loosen the grime. She returned with more and set about scrubbing the surfaces she had just brushed clean.

    It seemed like tedious, unpleasant work to me but Sophie hummed or sang to herself contentedly. She smiled, when she was finally able to remove the cloth from her mouth and breathe comfortably, and kept up a constant stream of chatter about how nice the cottage would be once it was clean. I didn’t doubt her, but I also didn’t know what it would take to remove all of the collected filth from the place. Even sitting on the windowsill, I felt dirty and began to groom myself. Sophie laughed.

    “I don’t know how you can feel dirty, Sable! You’ve been sitting up there the whole time! Why don’t you do something useful? If we had some feathers, we could tie them to your tail and you could help me clean.”

    I didn’t think much of this suggestion but Sophie was in high spirits, which was good. I had made the right decision in bringing her here. I did, however, feel compelled to do something with my time, and decided that now would be a perfect time to reintroduce myself to the fields I had learned to hunt in with my mother. Sophie would be fine here, with the neatly stack fire wood John had left outside for her, until I returned.