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Yes

"You are alright, yes?"

By the abyss, why did she have to say that.

Sure, the words bothered me. Growing up, I rarely if ever got asked questions like that. Usually it was: 'why can't you work harder,' or 'that was weak, try again and do better.'

But it was the hand on the shoulder, the simple, soft touch that really struck me deep.

Heart beating faster, face growing hot, breathing a bit more rapid. I was thankful that all those things could be correlated to the battle we had just fought together.

What is happening?!

Pushing Arcs hand off my shoulder and planting my scythes hilt into the ground for support, I slowly got to my feet. There was a long shallow gash on my left high, going from the top of my calf to the top of my hock. It wasn't life threatening, but I hadn't noticed it until I had taken a step and the sudden pain that struck me caused me to lose balance, my leg to buckle, and ended up kneeling on the ground.

Bright red blood oozed slowly out of the wound, mixing with my black fur and creating a maliciously dark crimson color.

"I'm fine," I say a little aggressively. "We're not done."

Nyxilan Veldser. Professional bounty hunter. Scythe swinging expert. Known for her rude attitude, impulsive nature, and saw toothed smile.

And I wholeheartedly agree with everything said about me.

Currently, I was on a mission with Arc Redwood, a disgustingly sweet albino red fox. This would be my sixth mission with her in the past seven months.

Our job, should we choose to get paid, was to hunt down a small band of half-Mindless. Basically Alchemical addicts that crave the serum but haven't gotten enough of it to go completely crazy. There were five of them, and they seemed to have enough cognitive functions left to form a group. Our original job was to guard a small caravan carting a supply of Alchemical serum, but we were raided while we had stopped to rest by this half-Mindless group, and now we were getting paid a bit extra to hunt them down and get the serum back.

We had caught up with them, or at least two of them. Whether they were left behind because they couldn't keep up, or stayed to buy the others time, they wouldn't let us pass without a fight. Fight ensued, bounty hunters prevailed, now we were here, wasting time because of a big paper cut.

"Ve should at least bind vound to deter infection, yes?" Arc suggested before I could take another step.

"We don't have time." I said, tapping the bottom of my scythes hilt on the ground twice to turn the magic that created its black ethereal blade off. The runes at the bottom of the hilt stopped glowing red, and I slipped it into its diagonal sheath on my back, freeing my hands to move faster.

I took a few steps forward, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up my leg and the butterflies flying around in my chest.

Holy radiance, calm down.

It still felt like Arcs hand was resting on my shoulder.

"We can still catch up to the rest of those abyssal spawn if we..."

The scratchy sound of fabric tearing caused me to stop and turn around. Arc had ripped off one of her shirt sleeves and was walking towards me.

I opened my mouth to protest again, brow furrowing in annoyance, but she cut me off.

"Vill only take moment." She said, kneeling down and quickly wrapping the wound in her torn sleeve.

Something about the way she had said what she did caused the butterflies inside me to start a square dance. There was kindness, like always, but also an underlying tone of authority that kept me still while she worked.

And, true to her word, my wound was wrapped tightly in a few seconds and Arc was up and already moving.

It took me a moment before I gathered my bearings and started following close behind.

We sprinted across the forest floor, a blur of black and white weaving between trees and over stumps, Arc leading the way.

Out of the two of us, Arc was the better tracker when we were in a hurry. I could track a target for miles just by following footprints in the earth and any other signs left behind, but Arc's nose could pick out scents I couldn't when our targets were close enough.

In times like this, I'd usually focus more on my surroundings for signs or indications our targets had passed by the direction we were going, just to make sure, but the stupid butterflies wouldn't stop causing my heart to flutter. It also didn't help that I was right behind Arc, staying on her tail as she led us over a small hill.

The way her ears pressed against the back of her head, the lean muscles in her back and legs tightening and releasing with each stride, her swirling purple tattoo above her tail that shimmered pleasantly when it caught the light.

Sweet Iridescence, she was gorgeous.

I shook my head trying to clear it. I couldn't be thinking of things like this right now, especially in the middle of a mission.

But why? Of all the people, why was she the one?

I knew what I was feeling, I'm not oblivious to the signs of love. What I was feeling was similar to the feeling I got when I was passionate with one of my occasional flings. Like Trifty, the barmaid.

However, unlike with Trifty, what I was feeling was not caused by biological stimulated pleasure. This was much more.

And here was where I was confused. It wasn't because Arc was a woman. Growing up in a home where my father spent most of his time in business meetings and off making deals, I was surrounded by females, whether it was my mother, sister, or housemaids.

Because of that, I always get attracted to women since it's the gender I was surrounded by and honestly the most comfortable with.

No, I was confused because of Arc's personality. I hate nice people. They're either pushovers or they want something from you.

And I hated Arc.

At least, I had when I first met her. After the first couple missions, I realized she could hold her own in a fight, which I could admittedly respect.

But I kept expecting her to ask something of me. To come up to me one day and ask for a ridiculous favor in return for all the kindness she showed me.

It never came, no matter how long I waited.

And when she had put her hand on me, that threw me.

Whenever my parents put their hands on me, It was never out of love. It was usually because we were at fancy parties, and they would grab my shoulder to remind me to keep smiling, keep acting like a perfect future business-woman. Because if I didn't, there would be extra work for me to do when the party was over.

But Arcs hand, it had been so gentle, so filled with care and genuine worry I've never really experienced.

I was so lost in thought, I didn't see when Arc ducked around a thick low hanging branch sticking out in front of our path.

I ran straight into it, snapping it off, but also tearing my shirt and scratching the skin underneath.

"Son of a..."

A long string of curses spewed out of my clenched teeth as I gripped my stomach.

Breathing heavily from running and the anger that flooded my body, I pulled out my scythe out, it's ethereal blade already forming from the small special rubber hammers that tapped the base of the hilt when pulled it out.

Bringing the weapon back, I was ready to cut down the tree that had caused the surprise attack when a pair of strong, slender hands grabbed onto my own.

Turning sharply, I looked deep into the vibrant red eyes of Arc, and my anger melted away.

"You are not acting yourself." She said blatantly, concern apparent between the gasps of breath.

I slowly lowered my weapon, putting the base on the ground as Arc knelt down to examine the wound between my torn shirt. She was right. Usually I would've kept running, even if I had barreled straight into a tree branch. Pain was something I could handle, especially when chasing down a target.

All these weird feelings of love were screwing with my other emotions.

Arc clicked her tongue, standing straight. "Small cuts, bleed little," She said. "Vill probably bruise later."

She reached up, and in a single movement tore the sleeve off the other side of her shirt. She wrapped the sleeve around my stomach and tied it off behind my back.

"To be safe." She said simply.

Standing straight again, Arc looked me in the eyes again. She was a couple inches taller than I was, so I had to tilt my head back to hold her gaze.

"Before ve go further," She started. "I must ask if something is bothering you. Anger is not something you show often. Are you certain..."

"Screw it." I muttered under my breath. I don't really know what happened next. I guess I couldn't stand what I was feeling anymore.

My lips found hers, and I could feel her body jolt in surprise as I grabbed her shoulders to bring her in close to me.

I've kissed plenty of beastmen, but this kiss, it felt so

Real.

Too soon did she finally pull away from me. I opened my eyes, looking at her face for any sign of disgust or that I had made a mistake, but I didn't see anything other than surprise.

"Before you say anything," I started. "I'm starting to like you. A lot. And when we get back from this caravan mission and tracking these Alchemical addicts, I'm taking you out to dinner. And it's up to you to decide if you want it to be as associates, friends or," I took a deep breath. "Something else."

A smile slowly spread across Arcs maw and she chuckled before bending down and picking up my scythe off the ground. I must've dropped it when I had pulled her in.

She held it out to me and I took it, still trying to read her expression as I waited for an answer.

"'Something else' vould be vonderful." She said. "But let's talk later, yes?"

She leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the forehead before turning around and continuing the hunt.

I smiled before following close behind, elation replacing the butterflies.

Nyxilan Veldser. Professional bounty hunter. Scythe swinging expert. Known for her rude attitude, impulsive nature, and saw toothed smile.

With a soft spot for Arc Redwood.

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Thank you for reading! May you're inner fire burn strong