A cave.

Shairi had never been so far away from civilisation before. Now, as night fell, she began jumping at ever shadow cast by her glowing sphere of witchlight, and every rustling in the bushes.

“Damnit,” she muttered. “Where am I going to slee-eeeeee!”

Her foot caught on an unseen tree root, and she found herself tumbling down a muddy slope. Her descent ended with her splashing into a small stream that ran along the bottom of the gully, soaking her to the skin. She gave a little whimper of misery.

“I want to go home…” she muttered. Her wet clothes clung to her body, making her shiver in the cold night wind.

Queiss followed her down, her feline form easily negotiating the slope. “You mean the home where your evil mage mistress treats you like a ****, or the one where you’re expected to become a whore like your mother?”

“No,” Shairi snapped. “Some hypothetical better home.” She saw a darker space in the bank stream, where the roots of a tree framed an opening. She approached cautiously. It was big enough for her to enter if she stooped, and it expanded into a quite comfortable cave.

Once Shairi lit a campfire with a simple spell, it was quite comfortable. Rain began to patter down outside, but the cave became quite warm. She peeled off her soaked clothes and huddled naked under her blanket. Slowly, she drifted to sleep.

Her last though was a troubling one – why was such a comfortable cave not already occupied?