the train clattered onward. for passengers it is a conduit to their places, but for wayfarers, the transit itself is their place. the tracks rattle and clank to the tune of a loved one cooking breakfast in the kitchen, while you wake slowly in the other room. the view outside the window may dance and flit but a window it remains, a barrier to gaze safely out of while you drink your tea.

headphones are on, a quiet request to the others not to be bothered, but the music and podcasts are off today. the polite folk are tuning in instead to a speaker-phone argument the whole car can hear. there is an unpleasant, unidentifiable smell. some kid is clamoring for entertainment from its shepherding guardian. a homeless fellow sleeps in the back, cocooned in dirty jackets. all is well.

two wayfarers meet.

one boards while the other is seated, and they register each other immediately, vibrant spots in a wavelength outside most's visible spectrum. no attention is paid as she takes an empty seat next to the fox, the other passengers rustling past in their boots and coats and jangly bags. the fox takes off her headphones. it's only polite, if they are going to talk.

and they will.

"Nice day out." said the spirit-catcher, settling and shoving her bag under their seat.

the fox flicks an ear, though only mentally. her current pair don't do that. "no pleasantries, please."

"Really?" the spirit-catcher cocked her head with a little grin, dark hair and bomber jacket rustling as she moves. "You look like the pleasant sort."

"i can be." said the fox, not-tail not-twitching as she scanned her eyes across the spirit-catcher. "but not with you."

that got a chuckle out of the spirit-catcher, who leaned back and shoved her sunglasses up onto her forehead. her eyes were a burning green, unnatural enough for contacts to be the immediate assumption. the fox knew better, of course.

"Not a fan of us, are you?"
"no."
"Heheh. A shame, but not surprising." she flicked her head. "So what keeps you here, outlander?"
the fox narrowed her eyes. "i don't wish to answer your questions."

the spirit-catcher smiled calmly.

"You should, though."

the two stared at each other for a long time. the car was silent, as if all the passengers had departed. the train raced on, clanking and rattling, sure and steadfast as the heartbeat of a massive animal, carrying them on towards an uncertain place.

a cabin attendant came by. the spirit-catcher ordered them both drinks-- a chai for herself, and then turned to a fox, who awkwardly requested a black coffee. drinks were got. the cabin attendant went along with their cart, and the fox watched, narrowing her eyes and fiddling with the rip in her jeans as the spirit-catcher mixed a somewhat absurd amount of sugar into her drink.

then the spirit-catcher waited, gazing expectantly at the fox.

the fox sighed, and sipped her coffee.

"i will ask a question first." she bargained. the spirit-catcher grinned.

"Alrighty, then. Shoot."
"how many?"
"Bound, or total?"
"mm. both."
"Twenty-two, and of them, i am bound with four."

the fox scowled, ears not-flattening. those were not good numbers.

"damn you."
the spirit-catcher chuckled. "I do my work well, girl."
"i do not intend to become your twenty-third, i hope you know."
"Mm-hmm. But you could become my fifth."

the fox stared, not comprehending for a second, and then had to cut back a growl. her tail would have bristled if she had one at the time.

"*fat chance!*" she snapped, voice low.
the spirit-catcher raised her arms. "Easy, now. Was just offering."
"you should *not* have. i don't even know you."

the spirit-catcher just shrugged, grinning lazily and spinning the spoon around in her hand. "True enough. I believe, though-" she pointed it at the fox. "That you still owe me an answer. What is it?"

the fox paused for a long moment, glowering a bit, then just sighed, shoulders lowering a bit.

"the weather."
"The weather?"
"yes." she not-flicked an ear. "i like the cold, at dawn and in the winter. and i like to watch the thunderstorms."

the spirit-catcher studied her face.

"Really?"
"yes"
"That's an odd reason to vacate your seat."
the fox shrugged. "i suppose i didn't need much of a reason."

the spirit-catcher raised her bows.

"Huh. *Interesting.*"

the spirit-catcher was leaning forward, chin resting on her hands, eyes so intent they could burn a man's skin. the fox sipped her coffee, gazing cooly back at her.

there was the murmured chatter of older voices, the distorted garble of a handheld game. passing footsteps as someone exited the bathroom and made their way back to their seat.

no chime and announcement had come over the speakers before the train started to slow to a stop. no-one seemed to notice but the fox and the spirit-catcher.

"Ah, well, then. Lucky you, that's gotta be it for today. This is my stop." the spirit-catcher said, standing and stretching leisurely. "Don't worry, though. I'll be seeing you later."

"will you, now?" the fox tilted her head a bit.

"Of course."

the spirit-catcher was jotting something in a notepad. she ripped off the page and slipped it down on the table next to the fox, picking up her tea and heading to the door.

"Keep an eye out, girl."

and with that she was off, trotting down and out. no other passengers followed, the doors sliding shut behind her. the spirit's eyes lingered for a long, long moment as the train lurched, lugging itself back up to speed, leaving the catcher's stop behind and returning to its tracks.

the noisy song of the bustle played on, typing, chattering, watching videos aloud on their phone speakers. it was a concert of the modern world, and the fox had no part to play.

she only sighed, tension seeping from her shoulders. a moment of hesitation, and she folded up the number, sliding it in her pocket with her phone. the fox sunk back into her seat, sparing a quick glance through the car, and pulled back up her headphones.

2-17-25