Qeya River fables

Many smells. Many, many smells.

No wind.

Something soft caressing her legs and belly, like many tails, but also not a tail, caught Other Shore's attention and snagged onto it. An odd form of comfort, but it nonetheless kept her warm as the exhaustion slowly ebbed away.

She felt no wind, but there was wind. Breath. 

Other Shore's eyes flickered open. The same woman, watching... watching what? 

Her eyes flickered to the floor, covered in many flat tails. Hides, she remembered - is that what they were? And they were large, yet soft. And then she saw piles of... what were they, herbs? Little scattered things resembling leaves on the edge of her blurry vision, colors that shouldn't exist in winter.

Even her home had never been so... strangely inviting yet foreign. Aromas of what looked like herbs fused with strange scents, riding on unceasing winds.  

She turned her gaze back to the woman and tried to speak, her words rolling off her tongue sluggishly. Where... am...?