Herbalists' Cache pussy wagon

Varinril suggests they travel together and Mallaidh immediately looks up from her apple, staring across the way at the pale girl. Her ears twitch, lying flat for a second, before cupping forward to continue to listen to the rest. It takes a little effort to breathe, her stomach somehow lodged in her throat, turning her lips dry.
 
Not knowing where she’s going is one thing. She doesn’t have to depend on someone else on where she’s going; but at the same time, she has nowhere to go. No drive. Nothing to return to. In a way, she misses it. Drageda was always there waiting for her. Blixen, Artaax… Rose. Mallaidh glances away, taking a long breath and fighting the constriction of her throat. What happens when things get hard? You always run away, she hears Blixen say, but the sound of music muffles the hateful words. A pleasant sound of home offers encouragement.
 
The world is wide and your legs are long, pikku savua.
 
“Okay,” she blurts, looking up. The apple between her paws is forgotten, rolled away and discarded. “Where will we go?”