You awake with a start.

Very suddenly you find the cart come to a jarring halt and you quickly sit upright. You look out of the front of the cart where you see your mistress stepping down from the bench and stretching. The sight you see confuses you at first. The sky is black with only a faint hint of orange casting the softest of shadows across the gravel road, but you can still see as if aided by the clarity of a noon sun. You slowly rise and peer into a dream catcher display of mirrors hanging from the wall. Your eyes beam back with an inhuman green sheen. Well... That explains that. You sit back down on all fours and yawn. You feel your warmth seeping away into the evening cool and shiver. You've never been one to nap, usually being more adventure focused, yet now you find that you could curl up and nap the rest of the night away. You wonder if your mistress will want you to set up camp, and mewl softly, much to your surprise.

Mistress Lovara turns to you, a stern look on her face. You note that her eyes are glowing as well... Were they always like that? "We will not reach town until the morning tomorrow, until then you will sleep here and protect my caravan. You will find blankets in the trunk behind you, and to your right, you will find your food and drink for the night." She looks sternly into your glowing eyes, and deliberately declares "You will protect my caravan tonight... You will not run away... and you will not go meddling in things you do not have permission for." With a shudder you feel her words becoming part of the boundaries that make up your mind. She waits a moment, and you see her brow furrow slightly. Her disapproval grows within your chest.

"Y-yes Mistress!" you respond quickly.

She stares a few moments longer, before you see hint of trepidation on her face, a feeling you quickly share. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but turns and walks away instead.

With her gone you grab a blanket and wrap it around your shoulders like a cloak. As with all things your mistress owns, it's a luxurious material, not the rough wool of a rugged traveler, but the layered silks and over stuffed quilts of a noblewoman. Your mind begins to wander, for the first time since this tumultuous beginning. What more, you feel your own senses, and your own emotions coming back into your own. Concern begins to grip your insides once again, and you realize just how dire your circumstances have become over a single day. How is it that your thoughts are once again your own? You're not sure but you decide to step out of the cart and look around. You see a large cobbled house here, ancient, poorly kept, and with a massive herb garden that is more weed than herb. All around are tall and ancient trees many arm lengths in diameter, and big enough to blot out the sun and prevent thick underbrush.

For a fleeting moment you imagine yourself grabbing as many supplies as you can and fleeing into the night.
But you find you're also filled with a distinctly feline sense of curiosity to investigate this strange house, unseen of course.
Or you could investigate the cart. "Meddling" doesn't necessarily mean you can't look, right?