Find the Bard

Crombie sat tall in the saddle of his new mount — a massive, sturdy draft horse the colour of storm clouds, built to carry his eight-foot frame without strain. The beast moved with steady power beneath him, hooves thudding softly along the packed dirt road. The magically bound chest rested securely against his hip, its runes glowing faintly whenever his hand brushed it. The brass compass pulsed gently in the pouch at his belt, its needle pointing steadily toward the next town.

Master Torren had given him a simple nod that morning. “Ride where you like, big man. Just keep your eyes open and that halberd ready.”

Crombie took the invitation. He urged the big horse forward, moving up the long line of wagons to assess the people he would be travelling with for the next several days.

The convoy was a mix of hardened traders, a few hired guards, and travellers seeking safety in numbers. Most were human. He passed a pair of dwarven merchants arguing good-naturedly over a map, a tall half-elf woman sharpening a pair of knives with calm precision, and several families huddled together on the back of a supply wagon. A few of the guards gave him respectful nods — word of how he had handled the raiders in Havenford had clearly spread.

Near the middle of the convoy, music drifted on the breeze.

A feline bard sat perched on the driver’s bench of one of the larger wagons, her tawny fur catching the morning light. She played a lively tune on a well-worn lute, tail swaying in time with the melody. Her clothing was practical for travel but cut to move freely — a loose blouse and a short, layered skirt that showed off long, digitigrade legs and the graceful curve of her hips.

Crombie slowed his horse as he drew level with her wagon.

The bard’s large, luminous green eyes lifted from her lute and found him immediately. A slow, deliberate wink followed, playful and full of promise. She never missed a note. Her fingers danced across the strings as she continued playing, the music bright and teasing.

Crombie watched.

She was beautiful in a way that felt completely different from Lila — confident, fluid, and openly aware of her effect on others. Her ears twitched once, and a small, knowing smile curved her lips.

Then, without breaking eye contact or her song, she shifted on the bench. She adjusted her position slowly, crossing one leg over the other… then uncrossing them again. The movement was casual to anyone glancing her way, but from Crombie’s elevated angle on his tall horse, it was unmistakable.

The short skirt rode up.

For a heartbeat, he caught a clear flash of soft tawny fur between her thighs and the delicate pink of her sex, bare beneath the skirt. No undergarments. Just smooth feline fur and the deliberate, teasing glimpse of what lay beneath.

She held the pose for a second longer than necessary, then closed her legs again with a soft flick of her tail. A wry, satisfied smile touched her face as she turned her gaze toward the distant treeline, as though she hadn’t just shown him exactly what she wanted him to see.

Crombie’s ears flicked sharply. Heat rolled through him, low and sudden. His grip tightened on the reins. The heavy weight between his thighs stirred against the fabric of his garment, and he had to shift slightly in the saddle to ease the sudden pressure. His blue fur prickled along his spine.

The feline bard kept playing, but the corner of her mouth curved higher. She knew exactly what she had done. And she was enjoying it.

Crombie lingered a moment longer, the big horse walking steadily beside her wagon. The music wrapped around them — light, flirtatious, and charged. When she finally glanced back at him, her green eyes sparkled with open invitation and amusement.

She didn’t speak. She simply gave another slow, deliberate wink, then returned her full attention to her lute as if nothing had happened.

The convoy rolled on.

Crombie could continue riding beside her wagon… or he could move on and finish his assessment of the rest of the travellers. Either way, the feline bard had made one thing very clear:

She was interested. And she wasn’t shy about showing it.