Running after Bear seemed to become a very recurring habit of Irene’s. She had learned she could trust the cat to know where he was, and to know when it was time to come home, but beyond that, if she tried to go for a walk and bring the large feline along, it was either at a dawdle, or a run with absolutely no in between. Cousin Celia had consented to Irene’s walks around the massive vineyard, but thus far it had rained quite a lot for her to be going on daily walks; at least that was what her cousin had said. Irene, for her part, paid little attention to the precipitation in the air, and delighted in frolicking through one of the nearby fields. Sometimes if she was lucky, horses would be out and she was able to hand-feed one of the mothers and her new foal.

It was with great eagerness that she hurried to do exactly that with Bear running ahead of her, a black sooty blur as he darted through the incoming rain. Before she could reach the field however, a figure almost materialized out of the rain in the middle of the path. Bear managed to dodge the person but Irene skidded to a halt, promptly slid down the already soaked slope and crashed into them with a shriek. Before she could get an apology out, something collided hard with her side and stole the breath from her; she’d collapsed on top of a log and brought the stranger down with her.

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