A week of nights in the woods ends on the hills of a small city, one so inviting they don’t even bother to learn the name or scope locals before running into the nearest hotel.

Once they secure a room for the night, Jacks races for the nearest bar, desperate to get the metallic taste of canteen water out of her mouth. Gestal wanting to tag along is no surprise, but her lack of thirst is. True, she follows Jacks everywhere, but surely she wouldn’t come to a bar just to sit around and listen to a third-rate bluegrass trio.

“I offer to buy myself a drink out of the goodness of my heart, and you won’t even join me?”

“I don’t drink…”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Every time I do, something bad happens…”

Jacks stifles a laugh, “Well, you’ve got me here to protect you now. Why not live it up a little?”

Gestal does not respond. She merely sinks further into the comforting darkness under her cloak. Jacks shrugs and sips at her own mug. She’d pegged the bear as the type to need a drink since day one, but if Gestal didn’t want a drink, it was no business of hers.

At least, not until the bartender shoots them a glare and reminds them of the one drink minimum. Seeing Gestal’s hesitation in leaving, Jacks slams a few bills on the counter and requests a Blue Pearly, a favorite in her homeland of Kalmaria.

Jacks finishes her drink, realizing Gestal has done nothing but stare into hers since she got it, “Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll drink it when he’s not looking.”

Gestal holds the glass closer. It’s a gift from Jacks. She shouldn’t waste it like that. Licking her lips in nervous anticipation, the bear takes a sip, having to force it down the moment it hits her tongue so she doesn’t spit it onto the bar.

“Heheheheh, what’s a matter? Don’t like it?” Jacks asks with a laugh.

It’s vile. Horrible. It makes her want to vomit, “…it’s…a little sour…”

“No shit. People don’t drink Blue Pearly for the taste.” Jacks snaps her fingers and orders a refill on hers, “Sure you don’t wanna just give it to me?”

“Mm-mm…” says Gestal, preparing herself for another attempt.

Jacks watches in awe at the anomaly before her. It’s clear Gestal doesn’t like her drink, but she’s forcing it down regardless. Soon enough, her mug is empty.

Jacks gives her a slap on the back, “Atta girl!”

“…………c…can I have another?”

The bear’s speech is already affected. Jacks knows Blue Pearly is strong but figures a beastperson would be able to hold their liqour a little better. But hey, maybe if Gestal gets drunk enough, she won’t be the mopy mess she usually is. Without hesitation, Jacks orders Gestal another round.

And another. And another. And another. Before long, Gestal is slamming them back, throwing her cloak off, and laughing louder than the bar-band’s instruments. She’s telling bad jokes to anyone who will listen and having giggle fits before even getting to the punchline.

‘Like flipping a fuckin’ switch.“ Jacks mumbles under her breath, astonished.

Jacks has known the bear long enough to see what makes her tick; the way she hides under that cloak and stays close in crowds, the way she never speaks above a whisper unless they’re alone, the way she hangs onto Jacks’ every word. It’s strange. After all, Jacks is the total opposite; a loudmouthed showoff with a million and a half stories to tell to anyone who will listen, a friendly face that won’t ever ignore you, unlike her companion.

Strange, and at times, a little annoying. Jacks has plenty of incentive to let Gestal tag along on the trip back to her den of thieves (namely the extra money, food, and navigation skill), but the cons are beginning to outweigh the pros. She feels less like a bodyguard and more like a babysitter. Gestal’s a beastperson with enough teeth and claws to render any rival gangster that attacks them asunder, but when the chips are down, she wants to run and hide. Not Jacks’ style.

And she never, ever, has a moment of peace. Gestal always seems to be less than a foot away. Having a travel companion shakes up the monotony, but she could use a little room to breathe.

Then…an idea.

Deciding Gestal has had enough, Jacks takes her and shoulders her back to their hotel room, where she lets the drunken bear collapse into bed before checking herself in the mirror, "Alright, Gestal. You go ahead and sleep this off.”

“Wha…” Gestal looks up at her with confused eyes, “Where are you going?”

'Gonna go check out the nightlife. I looked up this place on the map. Said it had a great theater.“ she turns to leave, "Catch ya later.”

Suddenly, she’s yanked back. Gestal has an iron-clad grip on her wrist, “But, we’ve already got a TV in here…we can watch whatever you want.”

Jacks slips free, “Nothing on but news this late. You just go to sleep. I’ll be back in a–"

In the blink of an eye, Gestal grabs her and yanks her onto the bed, holding her close and burying herself in her shoulder, "Please…don’t go…”

“Gestal!” Jacks struggles against Gestal’s grip, but she’s outmatched in strength. She looks down and sees her crying, “Gestal…?”

“I don’t wanna be alone…” the bear whimpers.

Of all the ways a drunk Gestal could have behaved, this was certainly unexpected. With a sigh, Jacks gives in and lies down with her, giving her a pat on the head before drawing the blankets over them. It’s going to be a long night.

Even after falling asleep, Gestal’s grip does not loosen. Jacks wracks her brain for hours; what’s with her? Gestal has the strength of ten men but beat Jacks through trickery. She could have left Jacks in the snow to die but instead she drug her inside a cave and gave her the first meal she’d had in days. She shies away from strangers but hangs on to Jacks’ every word when they’re alone.

This bear is a mystery. One for another time, as Jacks soon falls asleep herself.

When she awakes, she’s free of Gestal’s embrace, and the bear has taken a spot in front of the window, staring outside at the rising sun, “…did you want to go because you hate me…?”

“What?”

“It’s ok if you do…I understand…”

“Gestal…” Jacks takes a look at the clock. It’s well past the time they usually embark for the day. Leaving now would make sleeping in the woods all but a certainty, “…I’m too hungover to travel today. You?”

“…my head hurts…”

Jacks chuckles and gives her a pat on the back, “Ah, no biggie. I’ll go grab us a big greasy breakfast and clear that right up.” she says, grabbing her hat and heading for the door.

“Jacks…?”

“Yeah?”

“…thanks for drink…you’re a good friend…”

Jacks stops short. It’s an innocuous claim but she’d never heard it sound so…genuine. She knows as well as anyone gangsters recieve no sympathy, nor do they deserve any, but buying Gestal a drink is enough to win her over?

A million questions come, but Jacks doesn’t want to think about them. Right now, she’s content to stay in and watch some TV.